The Apprentice
by Qihotex
Summary: Not all slayers had the same destiny. This is one slayer's journey. A Highlander crossover. A Tale of the Third Slayer.
1. Of Dreams

**Title:** The Apprentice (1/11)  
**Disclaimer:** This is a derivative work. All characters belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, Fox Television, Davis/Panzer and others.  
**Pairings:** None  
**SUMMARY: **A Tale of the slayer called after Buffy's death at the end of Season 5.  
**SPOILERS:** All seasons of BtVS and Highlander.  
**Author's Notes:** This story takes place during the two years between the BtVS episodes **The Gift** (End of Season 5) and **Chosen** (Last episode of Season 7). There is some speculation concerning the reason we never saw another slayer after Buffy's second death. This story is one possibility for her non-appearance. Most of this story is a BtVS/Highlander crossover but characters from several other fandoms will make occassional appearances.  
**Note:**_If fics where one of the main characters is an OC offends your sensibilities, you'll probably want to skip this one. _  
**Revision Posted:** 18-Jul-2009

* * *

_It was a bright sunny day. A warm breeze played joyfully with the fallen leaves along a windswept shoreline, throwing them around in swirling movements like mini cyclones. An overly bright rainbow hung above the gurgling brook, dew glistening on the impossibly fine black sand where the running water met the lake. Butterflies floated above the goldenrod in a nearby meadow. _

_A tall, slim figure emerged slowly from the water, long raven hair hanging down below her waist, covering her naked form like a shimmering cloth. Water dripped from the tips like small diamonds towards the ground. As she stepped gracefully, almost nymph like, out of the water, arms slightly out, hands with long fingers extended as if reaching for some invisible instrument, the sky turned dark, the air crackling with electricity. Rolling black clouds covered the sun and a sudden cold rain poured down, drenching everything in sight._

With a muffled gasp, Fann sat up in her bed, feeling a sudden chill in the darkened room. She'd been haunted by vaguely disturbing dreams for the last month, since the death of her grandmother, but this wasn't the same kind of dream as the ones she'd been having. In those she was always running, her feet pounding against some hard surface, being chased by something she couldn't see. Something she was too frightened of to turn around and face, as its rancid breath poured over her shoulders.

This hadn't been a scary dream but huddled under her blankets and staring blindly into the darkness, she could feel her heart beating faster than normal. She took long, deep breaths and tried to calm down. After her heart had slowed down and her normal breathing resumed, she lay back down, pulling her pillow over her face and attempted without much success to go back to sleep.

Some time later, in the early morning, she fell back into an exhausted asleep and dreamed again. This time she was just a distant observer. She watched from an impossibly far distance as a small blonde girl dove off the end of a tall tower, falling towards a brilliant pool of pulsating light in a graceful swan dive. When the girl's body passed through the light Fann felt something happening to her own body. Something intensely painful engulfed her in waves. She was driven awake by the horrifying pain, her high pitched screams waking the entire house.

* * *

A month after she first dreamed of the falling blonde she was still finding it impossible to sleep for more than an hour or two every night. When she did manage to fall asleep, the other dreams, the ones of being chased, came back, often waking her and leaving her shaking and hoarse from the involuntary moans and screams she would make.

She could feel the patience of her grandmother's friends Alice and Willa, the Boreaus sisters, wearing thin as the nightmares continued. Retired, they lived modestly but they'd gladly taken her in when her Gran had died. For some reason her Gran had wanted them to be her guardians but she knew they hadn't really been prepared for the reality of her being thrust into their quiet lives. Because they didn't know how to deal with her grief, from the start they'd given her almost complete freedom to do whatever she wanted.

When the dreams and nightmares had started they'd tried to help. Tried to find a way for her to get over the nightmares, with little success. Nothing anyone said to her seemed to help. The doctors and councilors they consulted told them it was a delayed reaction to her grandmother's death but Fann knew better. She could feel something tugging at her every night. Something in her wanted to be outside, in the dark. There were times she was unable to resist the impulse. Between the nightmares and the secret nightly excursions into the neighboring woods she could feel herself wearing out from the lack of sleep.

And she had another secret. Something had changed in her when the nightmares had started. She felt different. Stronger. More aware of everything around her. She could see and hear a lot better than before. She could feel the presence of people and animals in her head before she saw them. It was very confusing and the stress of adjusting to these changes was contributing to her sleeplessness. Fann knew she needed to talk with someone about it but from the beginning something told her to keep it to herself for now.

* * *

In inspired desperation, unable to think of anything else, the school psychiatrist had given her a journal and told her writing out her nightmares and dreams would help them go away. She was wrong, they didn't. But over the long summer they'd became more manageable. She still had them nightly but they were less intense and she was able to sleep longer. She would still occasionally wake up a worried Alice or Willa with her moans but the screams had mostly stopped.

Shy and solitary, the tall girl had never had many friends, and none of them were ever very close. When the nightmares had started she'd stopped spending any time with even the ones not frightened away by the rumours. There were times that summer when she felt that she was walking in a dark dream, constantly numb to the other people around her. During the day she spent all of her time at her grandmother's house packing the possessions she was keeping so they could go into storage. She'd been convinced by her Gran's friends to sell the house and use the money to help pay for things she might need. She still had another year of high school to go but anything left over after she finished would help with college expenses.

She spent most of her time alone, adjusting to losing her grandmother and to the sudden increase in her strength and the enhancement of her senses. She struggled with it daily, trying to not break any of her favorite dishes or her Gran's nicknacks. On the days she couldn't control her bewildering new abilities she worked until she was exhausted in the large garden in the field behind her Gran's house.

Her Gran had always kept a vegetable garden that had kept them in food all winter and an herb garden that provided a little extra income. Even though everyone in the small Maine town knew better, she still tried to keep up the fiction that her Gran was just away and would soon be back. Every week Fann would collect orders for fresh herbs from her Gran's friends and the local restaurants and shops and deliver them at least once a day.

Fann kept herself going for most of the summer in this fashion. She would get up early, head off to her Gran's house, and after a day of packing or gardening return to the Boreaus' in the evening for dinner and to sleep. On several occasions during the day she found herself carving pointed wooden sticks like the ones she would sometimes see being wielded by some girl her age in her dreams. These she hid in the garage in the saddlebags of her mother's treasured motorcycle.

* * *

Some days at her gran's house were better than others. The day she came across an album full of pictures of her mother and father wasn't one of them. She could just barely remember them. They'd died in an accident when she was ten and she had to concentrate hard to bring their images back. Until she found the album in her Gran's bedroom. Collapsing onto the floor, she looked at it with tears in her eyes. It was full of happy pictures. Of her parents with her and with others she didn't recognize. Of them smiling at each other and at her. Of places that seemed to be right out of a travel book.

Leafing through the pages there was one picture that seemed out of place among the others. It appeared to be very old, scratched and a fading sepia in color. In it stood a tall, thin woman with an almost dainty face and long hair so blonde it was almost a silver white. Gazing at the photo, Fann felt she should know her from somewhere. Carefully packing away the album and several other pictures she'd found that week in a heavy waterproof envelope, she kept out that photograph, another one of her parents together, and one of her Gran.

That night at dinner, Fann pulled out the picture and asked the Boreaus, who'd known her grandmother for a very long time, if they recognized the woman.

"Willa? Alice? Do you know who this is?" she asked them, placing it without fanfare on the table.

"It sort of looks like you," murmured Willa, after taking the photograph from Fann. She passed it to Alice across the table. "Doesn't it."

Alice took it and pursed her lips for a moment. "Different hair color and a little taller but yes, it does. Hmmm..." She thought for a moment. "I believe I've seen her before," the elder of the two sisters commented.

"Really?" Fann straightened up in her chair excitedly. "Where?"

"I think she's your other grandmother," the slight, round woman told her. "She wasn't around that often."

Fann couldn't remember ever hearing her Gran say anything about another grandmother. "What happened to her?" she asked Alice curiously.

"I think she died the summer before you were born." She frowned as she looked at the photo. "I think she lived a long ways away. In some foreign country. Your parents were gone for a month after it happened."

"Oh." Subdued after the initial excitement, Fann took the picture back, placing it in a pocket. "Thanks."

"How are you doing with the packing?" Willa asked her, giving her a concerned look. "Are you ready for us to help you?"

"Not yet," she said. "Soon. For now I need to do it alone," she told them sadly, surprising even herself with how grown up she sounded.

"Let us know," Willa told her gently, Alice nodding in encouragement.

"Thanks. I think I'll go up to bed now." Fann picked up her plate and silverware and took them into the kitchen before heading to bed. It would be another night of doing her homework and then staring at the ceiling for hours until she could escape into the night for an hour or two.

* * *

By August, she felt like she'd accomplished a lot. While she still wasn't getting much more than several hours of uninterrupted sleep at night, it was getting better. And she was actually starting to see some pattern to her dreams. Several nights of dreams of following different girls fighting for their lives against frightening creatures would be followed by several nights of dreams of that small blonde girl diving into that light.

The dreams always seemed to end at a critical point. She wasn't sure but she had the disturbing feeling that none of the girls she dreamt about had actually survived the things she saw them doing. And the dreams were too vivid to not be real. She'd gone through several slim journal volumes recording the dreams. She kept the filled journals hidden in a box at her Gran's house. She felt very protective of the girls she dreamed about. They belonged to her and she didn't want to share them with anyone.

She was almost done with the packing by mid August. Everything that she'd decided to keep was now securely boxed up, ready to be stored away. Everything else would be auctioned off before the house was put up for sale.

By late August, Fann was feeling confident in her control over her increased strength and the improvements in her senses. She felt comfortable enough to give in to the incessant pressure in the back of her mind to start venturing outside every night, not just occasionally. She wasn't sure what she was doing but something in the night called to her. And while the creatures she dreamed about in her nightmares seemed just that, nightmare creatures, she tensed at every sound when she was out at night. She had yet to run into anything more dangerous than the occasional fox or wild cat but she knew that she would run into something eventually.

Even with the summer almost over, the dreams continued to affect her sleep. The Boreaus had adapted to her sleeping problems but she was starting to sense that time was running out. She needed the dreams to stop. School was starting soon and there was no way for her to survive both school and her restless nocturnal wanderings on so little sleep. But she had no idea what, if anything, she could do about it.

* * *

The auction occurred as planned, just before Labor Day. She watched silently as piece by piece her life with her Gran was sold to neighbors and strangers in the crowded yard. The dining room table she remembered eating many Sunday dinners at; the large cherry china cabinet her Gran had been so proud of; the four poster bed she'd spent many nights dreaming on. These and many other physical memories now gone, scattered forever. She had no room for the larger furniture and just barely enough room in the small corner of the storage loft they'd rented for her for the things she could keep, like her Gran's rocking chair. The contents of the garage were the last things to go.

The tools in the garden shed would remain with the house when it was sold, hopefully after she finished with the gardens for the year, after the Fall harvest. She'd spent so much time on them over the summer that she was reluctant to let them go. And she'd managed to convince the Boreaus to let her keep her mother's motorcycle. They didn't believe she would ever use it. They thought she was too young to keep it, but her gran had promised to let her learn when she was old enough. She didn't tell them that she'd taught herself to ride it and take care of it over the summer. She didn't think they would be too happy with her and kept it from them.

* * *


	2. Escape

**Title:** The Apprentice (2/11)  
**Disclaimer:** See Part I  
**Pairings:** None  
**Author's Notes:** See Part I  
**Revision Posted:** 18-Jul-2009

* * *

**Chapter Title:**_ Escape_

The school year had started out in its traditional fashion for Fann. She had hoped that her senior year would be better but as the school year began things didn't seem like they would be any different than the previous year. Living with her Gran on the social fringes of their small town, she'd always been treated as something of an outsider by most of her class, but while her Gran was alive it hadn't seemed to matter too much. In the past she'd somehow managed to find a few students with similar interests that she thought of as friends to spend her free time with.

But now that she was living with her Gran's older friends, and after the rumours about her nightmares started, her former acquaintances left her alone and everyone else seemed to be staring at her as if waiting for her to explode messily in front of them in some expression of teenage angst. Feeling isolated Fann began keeping to herself and even more withdrawn than before.

Classes that autumn were only marginally more difficult than she'd expected that summer when thinking about how her classes had ended the previous year. But it wasn't the work itself that was a problem, it was the caring.

With her dreams being flooded nightly with constant violence and death Fann just couldn't bring herself to care about the things her teachers taught. Her algebra and science classes couldn't erase from her mind visions of girls her age or younger dying horrible deaths or the frightening creatures they fought as she watched, unable to intervene. And the books they were reading in her English classes seemed too tame and even less relevant than they had the year before.

The only bright spot during her week was the hour or two she spent every other day in the school councilor's office. She didn't have to talk. The councilor made no demands and had no expectations. She could just sit there and relax in the calm silence of the sound proofed office, away from her classmates and their constant staring.

* * *

The relative calm that had enveloped the rest of her time outside of school, since the auction, ended on a cool evening late in October. Fann had just finished her homework for the evening and had joined Alice and Willa out on the porch for a few minutes, before heading to her room for the night. They weren't doing anything special, just enjoying the unseasonably warm autumn weather and talking about the different things they'd done all or seen that day.

Willa and Alice were curled up in their favorite rockers and Fann was sitting on the top porch step, her back against the porch railing, playing with the ends of her long, braided hair. She was absentmindedly threading a piece of thick red yarn through her raven colored hair when she suddenly had the strangest feeling. She didn't know how but she knew that something bad was about to happen. Pulling herself hesitantly to her feet, she interrupted Willa's amusing description of a particularly annoying person she'd dealt with that day at work.

"Did you feel that?" She asked the two women.

"Feel what?" Willa asked and Alice echoed.

"I don't know." Fann said with an agonized tone. "Something's wrong." She looked around but didn't see anything to explain her feeling. She could feel herself starting to panic and started to hyperventilate. Standing on the edge of the porch, she felt a very unpleasant sensation in the pit of he stomach. Slightly unbalanced, she turned blindly in the direction the feeling seemed to be coming from. Willa and Alice followed her actions with their eyes, watching her worriedly.

The feeling was followed by a screeching sound in her head, like a thousand owls crying at once. She moaned and desperately tried to cover her ears with her hands to protect herself from the intense noise. She didn't know what Willa and Alice were doing; she couldn't think; she couldn't look. "Make it stop. Make it stop! Make... it... stop!" she moaned, stumbling backwards.

She could hear Willa calling to her but she didn't have the strength to answer. All of her attention was on the sound and getting away from it. She kept unconsciously backing away from where it seemed to be coming from. She heard her name called again and that and the sudden sensation of free falling were the last things she remembered as she tumbled backwards off of the porch onto the front walkway, hitting her head on the ground.

* * *

The nightmare that woke her up was a new one. Lying face down on her bed she was consumed by a horrifyingly claustrophobic feeling. But for the first time since the dreams had started she didn't wake to the sound of her own moaning or screaming. Groaning in pain, she rolled over, trying to remember how she'd ended up there. She could feel something on her head but her room was too dark for her to see what it was. Reaching towards her bedside table, and shielding her eyes, she flicked on the small light and cautiously looked around. Looking across her room, she could see the edges of a large white bandage on the back of her head in her dresser mirror. Although her head ached, the spot where the bandage was poking out of her hair seemed to be fine.

Not seeing anything else to explain how she'd gotten there, she dug in the night-stand next to her bed for her journal to write down the dream before she forgot any of it. Frowning, she recorded the impression she'd had of waking up in a small rectangular box, unable to breath. In her dream she'd recognized that she was in a coffin but had no idea how she'd gotten there. Her dream persona had clawed upward, digging and punching to get out. The dream had ended when she'd reached freedom and had taken a shaky breath in the cold crisp air. She'd had just enough time to look around, only seeing vague shapes, one of which resembled a tombstone. The writing hadn't been clear enough to read and before she could get closer to examine it she'd woken up.

As soon as she'd finished writing down the details she lay back, exhausted, onto her bed. Someone must have heard her moving about. A few minutes later, Alice appeared with a tray containing a clear glass of water and a small bottle of something.

Propping herself up on her elbows and rubbing her aching head, Fann asked her "What happened?"

"You fell off the porch and hit your head." Alice told her with a worried frown.

"And before that?" Fann asked, trying to remember the hazy events from earlier.

"We don't know." Alice looked at her closely, sitting down on her bed and placing the tray between them. "You said something I couldn't understand and screamed at us to 'make it stop.' And then you fainted."

"Oh." Fann rubbed her eyes in frustration at her inability to remember.

"We promised the ambulance person that we would take you to the emergency room or your doctor tomorrow." Alice told her.

"Oh." Fann repeated, looking at her in surprise. "Ambulance?"

"You were unconscious. We were worried," Willa told her, entering her room and standing next to Alice. "Fann, this needs to stop. Whatever the school councilor is doing to help you with things isn't working."

"I'm okay," Fann protested. "I've gotten used to it. I sleep more now, don't I?"

"Yes. You now sleep three hours instead of one every night," Alice acknowledged with a tinge of sarcasm. "But you're still wasting away. A strong breath could knock you over."

"And when we told your Gran we would be your guardians if something happened to her, we promised her we would take care of you," Willa added. "And this isn't taking care of you enough."

"And, besides that, Social Services won't let you stay here any more if they think you're having problems living with us," Alice told her, reaching over and lightly rubbing Fann's hand. "We had to do some fast talking to get them to let you stay here in the first place."

"I know. I'm really sorry you got dragged into whatever this is," Fann apologized as she pulled her long legs up to her chest, wrapping her thin arms around them before resting her chin on her knees. "I really miss my Gran," she mumbled, trying not to sound as pathetic as she knew she must look. "She would have known how to fix this."

"I know dear. We aren't her but we'll figure it out," Alice said, giving her a sad smile. "Why don't you drink this and take these for your head." She handed the glass of water and several pills from the bottle to Fann. "It'll help you sleep. I'll call your doctor in the morning. Hopefully I can take you to see her tomorrow."

"Thanks," Fann mumbled, taking the pills and quickly washing them down. The two older women left her room and she curled up around her favorite pillow and tried to go back to sleep.

* * *

Keeping her promise, Alice accompanied Fann to her doctor right after school. "How did it go?" she asked, as Fann emerged back into the waiting room with a sigh of relief.

"I'm okay." She noticed the other people in the waiting room looking at her curiously. "She wants to talk with you. Can I go outside?" she asked, feeling nervous in the small crowded room and wanting desperately to escape.

"Sure. Why don't we meet at the Coffee Haven?" Alice told her as she picked up her purse, stopping to ask "Do you need any money?"

"No, I'm okay. Thanks," Fann said, before giving her a small smile and hurrying out of the doctor's office.

* * *

Fann normally tried to avoid drinking a lot of coffee. Since she'd started having the nightmares anything with caffeine in it tended to make her overly jumpy. But today she felt she deserved the slight comfort it offered. The doctor had spent what had felt like hours poking and prodding her in an attempt to find any explanation for her collapse the previous day, with little success.

Lost in thought, occasionally taking a sip from her steaming coffee, she was startled when Willa sat down across from her in the small cafe.

"It's been a long time since I was a teenager myself," Alice commented absently. "Dr. Olsen seems to think you behave very maturely for your age."

"What'd she say?" Fann asked nervously.

"She says you are actually in very good health. She thinks you need to eat more but other than that she couldn't find anything wrong. She was surprised that the bump on your head was gone already." Alice sighed. "She has to send your blood off for some tests but she doesn't think they'll find anything. She thinks it was just stress."

"Stress?" Fann exclaimed loudly. She blushed at the sudden attention the other Coffee Haven patrons briefly gave her at her outburst.

Alice raised an eyebrow at her reaction. "She's upset with Willa and me for letting you pack up your Gran's stuff and dealing with her house on your own." She reached over and squeezed Fann's hand. "I'm sorry. You act so grown up I think we forgot you are really only seventeen."

"I'm okay," Fann told her gruffly, trying to keep her emotions in check. "I needed to do it. She was my Gran. It would have been like you letting someone else go through Willa's things if she had died."

"Let's get you home. Willa probably has dinner all ready for us." Alice got up from the table and headed for the door, Fann trailing in her wake.

* * *

For the next week dinner every night was a very subdued event. Fann spent each meal nervously picking at her heavily laden plate, trying to pretend that she didn't notice that the sisters kept looking at her like she was going to collapse any minute. She would then spend the evening doing her homework in the kitchen under their watchful gaze before heading to bed and pretending to sleep for a couple hours until they went to bed themselves.

With the coast clear she would escape from the house and spend an hour or two wandering around the town, attempting to satisfy the part of her that now craved the darkness. Eventually she would end up back in her room tired enough to sleep until she had to get up for school in the morning.

The dreams had started to take on a distinctly different tone after her fainting episode. While she couldn't really remember them as clearly as the earlier nightmares, they were no longer so scary that she was afraid to go to sleep at night. But she woke up every morning feeling more and more depressed and sad. It was like she was having to relive the day her Gran died over and over again. She knew Alice and Willa had noticed how out of it she was becoming. They seemed to becoming more concerned and started watching her even closer every day.

* * *

It was on Halloween that she finally broke free and ran. She'd always loved dressing up, becoming someone else for just a little while. Going from house to house with her small group of schoolmates had been thrilling. Her class had decided for the second year in a row to have a party, but with no one to go with this time around, she couldn't find any enthusiasm for the idea of watching others having fun when she wasn't. She sat in her room, staring at her homework and listening as Alice and Willa took turns answering the door to hand out candy to the costumed neighborhood children.

She fell asleep at her desk, waking up several hours later with the intense desire to go somewhere, anywhere. To get away from her life. There was something out there that she desperately needed. She wasn't sure what it was but it was pulling her away from home. And right now it was much more intense than the feelings that normally drove her into the darkness every night. There was a pressure, a feeling in her head. And she couldn't deny it.

She sat for a few minutes, staring out into the woods from her bedroom window and gathering her thoughts. It was a big step, running away from the safety of her home. She didn't know where she was going to go or even why. She just knew that she had to do it.

It only took her several minutes to pack the few things she wasn't willing to leave behind. She had just enough room in the small bags she packed for a week's worth of clothes, her journals, and a few other personal possessions. And that was the easy part. The harder one was leaving a note for Willa and Alice. She knew they would be upset but she hoped they would eventually forgive her and not try to send someone after her.

* * *

She looked at the brief note that had taken her a long time to write, rereading it one last time before sealing it in an envelope, memorizing the brief message, knowing that it really wasn't enough:

_ Alice and Willa,_

__

I'm sorry. I can't take it anymore. Something is going on in my head and I need to get away from

here and think things through. I'll be back when I work it out. Do whatever you think needs to be

done with Gran's house. Please don't look for me.

_ Fann _

Placing the envelope in a prominent place in the kitchen where they couldn't miss it, Fann walked out of the house and down the street to her Gran's house, stopping only to remove as much money as she could from her bank account at the first ATM she passed. She didn't have a lot in it. Most of her money from the auction was put away in an account she couldn't touch until she was older and out of school. Hopefully they wouldn't close her account. She thought she had enough in it to live on for the next few months but she couldn't be sure of that.

Silently opening the garage door, she went over to her mother's motorcycle in the dim light of a small flashlight. After checking for the knife and stakes she'd hidden there that summer, Fann stuffed her two bags into its saddlebags, grabbed her mother's helmet and pushed the bike out of the garage and down into the street with only a streetlight for company, glad for her increased strength. Six months earlier she would have struggled to move the heavy vehicle.

Once in the street she settled herself onto the bike, the tips of her feet just barely touching the ground, the helmet on her head. Starting it up, she put it into gear and without looking back headed down the quiet street away from her home in the early morning dawn. She wasn't sure where she was going but felt something pulling her in a westward direction.

* * *


	3. Leaving Winter Camp

**Additional Disclaimer:** I'm not sure who owns _Eerie, Indiana_ now but it was created by Karl Schaefer and Jose Rivera. This is a derivative work.  
**Summary:** See Part I.  
**Spoilers:** All seasons of BtVS and Highlander. Eerie, Indiana - all of it.  
**Revision Posted:** 18-Jul-2009

* * *

**Chapter Title:** _Leaving Winter Camp_

It didn't take hindsight to realize that she hadn't put enough thought or planning into running away. Fann knew she'd been very lucky to get as far as she had without any complications. For a spur of the moment action it had actually gone very well. It was almost as if someone or something was looking out for her. Weeks into her journey, although she still missed Alice and Willa, nothing had happened to change her mind about the decision to leave. It was one of the few decisions she hoped she wouldn't regret later.

While she still had a little bit of money left; her few clothes; and her mother's bike; once her money ran out she was going to be in serious trouble if she couldn't find another way to support herself. And she needed to find someone who could get her some kind of believable ID that said she was older. Her only form of ID, other than a driver's license that barely had the shine rubbed off, was an ATM card.

As she travelled she kept to herself. She couldn't afford to be stopped by any nosy grownup, official or not. There were too many places in the country where she wasn't legally old enough to be out on her own. And using the bike to get around simply compounded the problem. She knew that she wasn't exactly inconspicuous on it but it was one of the few things she had left from her mother and she refused to give it up. It also meant she couldn't take the risk of making any real friends along the way.

At the beginning of her journey she'd spent nine long weeks wandering down back roads and through small towns between Maine and Ohio, no clear destination in mind other than following her earlier impulse to head in a gradually western direction. She had tried to avoid spending the slowly dwindling money in her bank account but just living had managed to eat a noticeable hole in her funds. This added to the stress she found herself under traveling by herself. There were too many things that could happen that she might possibly need money for. If something happened to her bike; if she got sick or had an accident. Slightly superstitious, she was almost afraid to think about it.

And so many other things could go wrong. Too many times for comfort, she'd spent the night huddled in her current cheap hotel room trying to forget that someone had looked at her in a way that made her feel like something slimy was crawling up her back. Or that some strange man or the occasional woman had asked too many questions about where she was living or where she was going. The freedom of traveling by herself came with the price of feeling almost naked and exposed. A feeling she couldn't remember experiencing at home.

So she spent as little of her money as possible and worked hard to find the odd waitressing job along the way to supplement it. It had taken a few weeks but she'd eventually managed to figure out the small clues that indicated which restaurants and diners were most likely to hire someone her age for a week or two, no questions asked. She hadn't had any experience waitressing in the beginning, making it much harder, but luckily it was the holiday season and if she looked hard enough there were jobs. After a few false starts she'd learned enough to have the confidence to appear much older and more experienced than she was so that she could get a job when she really needed one.

She'd made it a practice to stop in moderately small towns as she headed southwest. Towns that were not so small that it would be hard to remain unnoticed by the local busy-bodies and not so large that she had to take the lowest paying and dirtiest restaurant jobs. Getting a job at one of the many fast food places along the way was a bit more difficult, no matter where she stopped. They tended to pay more attention to things like age and your last address, making it harder to find work if you were just passing through.

* * *

She hadn't made it as far south as she'd originally planned and after a lonely Christmas on the road, Fann found herself in Eerie, Indiana. From the moment she rode into town, Fann could feel that there was something very strange about Eerie.

She'd been there for a week and was already making plans for the next part of her journey when several vicious winter storms hit the small town. She'd ridden in bad weather before in the course of her trip. She'd even spent some of her precious cash on cold weather gear. But Fann didn't consider herself foolish enough to attempt to take her bike out in such rough winter weather. Resigning herself to staying in town for the next several months until the weather cleared, Fann went hunting for a job.

She was lucky enough to find a place to stay while cooking and manning the food counter at a quirky store downtown. 'World O' Stuff' was an old fashioned general store that seemed to stock everything under the sun. It was also the local teen hangout and the center of much of the strangeness she felt during her time in Eerie.

It wasn't necessarily a bad feeling, just a slight tingle at the back of her neck. But something was definitely off in Eerie. And it wasn't just the Elvis look-alike or the claims by Marshall and Simon, two of the younger 'Stuff' regulars, that Bigfoot was a regular visitor to the town.

* * *

It was a bitterly cold March morning. Her hands freezing in the thin leather gloves she normally wore while riding, Fann shivered as she unlocked her bike and wheeled it out of the shed she'd found in Eerie to store it in during the worst winter weather. She'd been stuck in Eerie much longer than she'd expected, until the roads started to thaw. As much as she enjoyed the freedom offered by her bike, it wasn't much use once the weather turned cold and snow covered the roads. Her choice had been to either abandon her bike, something she was loath to do, and eat into her cash moving cross country by bus or wait for the weather and roads to clear.

The weather had given Fann plenty of time to think about things while she waited. It was the longest she'd stopped in a single place since she'd left home. Fortunately, the people of Eerie had accepted her presence without much thought. In a town where the weird was a daily occurrence a teenager traveling alone and paying her own way didn't attract much attention. The residents seemed to take the weirdness in stride but for her Valentine's Day would never be the same again.

She still didn't have a real destination in mind, just the continual impulse to head towards the Pacific coast. She'd been gently pulled in that direction all winter. But now that she was ready to get back out on the road she felt no hurry to get there. Wherever 'there' was. All she wanted to do was ride, to feel the road beneath her saddle. But she knew she needed to find a real purpose somewhere along the way. As tempting as it was she couldn't wander the roads aimlessly forever.

Fann looked up at the gray sky and grimaced. Climbing onto her bike, Fann took one last look around before pulling on her helmet and putting her bike into motion. She wouldn't miss Eerie. She'd had enough of Indiana, especially this town. While she'd grown up in a small town, this one was just too different. The occasional weird event she could handle, but almost every week something major on the weirdness scale had occurred in Eerie. And after spending so much time in small towns, working for a week or two as a waitress in the occasional diner or restaurant, she was ready to try her luck in some place hopefully larger and saner, like New Orleans.

* * *

Fann chased the warm weather all the way south from Eerie, sticking to the inter-state highways the entire way. She travelled towards the Gulf coast in the calm, methodical fashion she'd perfected at the beginning of her journey to avoid attracting attention. Not being much of a country music fan, she didn't stop on her way through Nashville. It was just another exit on the highway where the traffic had more than its' fair share of bad drivers. After weeks of inactivity, where the closest she could get to riding her bike was brushing the dust off of it where it sat in the shed she'd found for it, Fann reached the Louisiana border exhausted and sore from the long, eight hundred mile ride.

There was something really wrong in New Orleans. She wasn't sure what was causing it but something about the city grated on Fann's nerves. She found a cheap motel near the restaurant district and tried to come down from the trip, to calm down from the buzz of being on the road again. She was only partially successful. Lying in the dark in her room, the dreams came back with a vengeance. But unlike the seemingly random nightmares she'd suffered through the previous summer, these had a different feeling to them. No longer as frightening, almost hopeful, she thought they were trying to tell her something but she didn't quite know what it was or even how to interpret them.

Even after the exhausting trip she was up early the next day, ready to go out and find a job. She could afford a week or two on the remains of her meager savings from her winter stay in Indiana but after that she would have to dip into her emergency funds. During her almost five months on the road she'd been lucky and had been able to earn just enough to avoid doing that but she didn't expect it to last. As she dressed she marveled at how much she'd changed since running away. She'd always been a little more organized than her peers but living on her own and the need to settle in and find a job in unfamiliar places as she travelled had forced her to change the way she looked at and prioritized things. Fun could happen after she found a job.

Grabbing a bus schedule and tourist map from the motel office, Fann set out to explore the city and to find a job. A more permanent place to stay could wait until she'd decided how long she wanted to stay in the area. The first diner she stopped at didn't have any openings. By the fifth she was starting to become frustrated and hungry. After buying a quick lunch from a street vendor, Fann headed back to her motel.

In serious need of a break, Fann was crossing the street a block from her motel when it happened. A small foreign car of some sort careened around the corner at a very high speed, directly into her path. Even with her quick reflexes there was really no place to go in the split second it took her to react. She instinctively jumped out of the way but the car still managed to knock her into the side of another car parked on the curb.

The pain from the impact caused her to lay there for what seemed like forever, but it couldn't have been more than a minute before she managed to pull herself together and push herself up from the ground. She hurt all over, like she was one large bruise, especially her head. In the ten months since the nightmares had begun she'd become stronger and faster but this was the first time she'd actually been hurt. Staggering upright she was surprised to see a large dent in the car where she'd hit it. She must have collided with it pretty hard. From the looks of the car she should have been hurt a lot worse than she thought she'd been. "Guess I'm tougher now too..." She mumbled to herself. Or tried to through a pink haze.

She leaned back against the car, trying to catch her breath and waiting for her vision to clear. Feeling for the spot on the back of her head that hurt the most, Fann felt something wet and slightly sticky with her fingers. Pulling them away from her head she was shocked to find her fingers coated with blood. She stayed there for a minute staring at them in horror. Something in her head was telling her that bleeding was a very bad thing. Something instinctual that insisted that she needed to get off the street and have it taken care of before anyone or anything saw she was hurt. That she was weak.

Grimacing as she touched sore spots she was sure were already bruising, Fann gently brushed the dirt from her clothes, glad she'd decided to dress casually for once while out job hunting. Instead of the slightly more refined clothes she normally wore to make herself look older she'd gone out in boots, jeans and a heavy work shirt, now showing evidence of her collision with both cars. She was just finishing examining the damage when she heard the high pitched sound of a high performance car approaching. Glancing up towards the sound, Fann saw a slim woman with short blonde hair unfolding herself from the low yellow car that had hit her several minutes earlier.

"Are you okay?" She asked, speaking with a faint accent Fann couldn't quite identify.

"Sure. I'm fine," Fann muttered sarcastically, not directly addressing her. "I get run over every day. No big deal." She stood up completely, steeling herself against the soreness that seemed to envelope her complaining muscles. She rubbed the sore spot on her head before she remembered why it really wasn't such a good idea. "Yow!" she blurted out in surprise as she pulled her hand away from her head.

The woman walked quickly around her car towards Fann. Fann was too surprised to resist as the slightly taller woman gently prodded her injury with long, slim fingers. "That isn't too bad. It's already stopped bleeding," She told Fann clinically. "You should probably wash it and put something on it."

"I was just going to. If you'll excuse me..." Fann told her in her politest 'don't mess with me' voice.

"I can give you a ride," the woman offered, apparently not phased by the tone of the abrupt dismissal. "It's the least I can do. Where were you going?"

Fann looked at her curiously. There was something about this woman that was setting off all sorts of alarms in her head, making her wary. Her enhanced senses were telling Fann that this woman wasn't quite what she appeared to be. "Thanks for the generous offer but I'll be fine," she said, firmly refusing.

"Why don't I at least buy you dinner?" the woman suggested.

"It's too early and I don't go to dinner with strangers," Fann told her politely, assuming that would end it.

"Okay. I'm Amanda," she said, offering Fann her hand with a sly wink. "Nice to meet you. And you are?"

Fann stared at her for a moment in surprise before answering. "Fann. Is my name."

"Okay. Now you know me," Amanda told her with a small grin. "What about dinner tonight?"

"Umm... No," Fann said, refusing again, anxious to get back to her hotel. "I've got to go. Thanks anyway."

"Okay..." Amanda seemed to think for a moment. Going over to her car, she grabbed something out of it. Turning back to Fann she handed her a small slip of paper. "Here. If you feel like dinner you can reach me at my hotel at six. Meet me in the lobby."

Fann just shook her head at the determined woman, not sure why she was so insistent on buying her dinner. Amanda squeezed her shoulder before turning around and climbing back into her idling car. With a shouted "Don't forget! Six!" she drove off, leaving Fann standing in the street, staring at her disappearing car in bemusement for a moment. She pulled herself together and headed back to her motel to take care of the cut on her head and change into clean clothes before getting back out on the street to find a job.

* * *

While the afternoon had not led to any definite employment, the disappointing morning had faded from her mind and back in her motel room Fann was now more optimistic that she would find something before the end of the week. She no longer thought she would have to dip too deeply into her meager cash reserves. And as soon as she had a job she could start looking for an apartment or boarding house.

She could only sit for so long, flipping through the channels on the TV in her motel room, before boredom forced her out into the street. In the months since gaining her enhanced senses the only real cure for the restlessness she felt every night was physical activity. When she wasn't working that usually took the form of long rambling walks late into the night.

Tonight she only partially succumbed to the impulse. While enjoying the remaining daylight, she found herself wandering down the street towards the hotel Amanda had claimed to be staying at. As she stepped into the lobby and looked around she wasn't quite sure why she was there. It went against her sense of self preservation, which she'd developed during her months on the road. Except for the offer of a real meal, Fann had no real interest in anything the woman might offer her. She was about to turn around and leave when, out the corner of one eye, she caught sight of Amanda heading her way.

* * *

**AN1:** I'd originally planned on setting an entire part in _Eerie, Indiana_ but it obviously didn't happen. Maybe some other time if I feel inspired.  
**AN2:** There are no plans for Amanda and Fann to be more than friends. This is not that kind of story.


	4. The Proposal

**Disclaimer:** See previous chapters.  
**Spoilers:** See previous chapters.  
**Revision Posted: **18-Jul-2009

* * *

**Chapter Title:** _The Proposal_

It wasn't the fanciest hotel Fann had ever wandered into. She'd briefly worked in several more ornate examples since running away the previous fall. She wasn't sure if it was typical of hotels in the French Quarter but standing in the lobby Fann had the distinct impression that it was a very discrete establishment. The kind of place that went out of its way to protect his guests from the pressures and prying eyes of the outside world.

She could feel the attention of hidden watchers on her as she entered. If asked she wouldn't have been able to say how she knew, but she would bet her limited funds that as soon as she showed up in the entrance someone in a hidden room somewhere in the hotel was checking her out to see if she was a threat to any of their patrons. She shivered slightly at the thought.

It was probably just her imagination but standing on the edges of the lobby, Fann thought she could feel a subdued energy infusing the air and swirling around her. Looking around she could just imagine any number of celebrities casually wandering through the lobby, secure in the knowledge that the paparazzi couldn't get in the door. The atmosphere gave her even less of an indication about what this Amanda could possibly want her for. Anyone who could stay in a place like this probably didn't need anything she had to offer.

She sensed Amanda approaching before she saw her, feeling a slight tingle in her finger tips as if they'd been sleeping. And even then, if she hadn't been looking in her direction she might have missed her completely. In the hours since they'd forcibly met Amanda had changed her hair to a much darker color, giving her a softer, less harsh look. She nodded at Fann and, without saying a word, headed for the entrance, Fann scrambling to follow.

* * *

Stepping out of the elevator and giving the blushing bellhop one last wink, Amanda strode casually out into the hotel lobby. It wasn't quite 6pm yet and while she didn't really expect Fann to show up she was willing to give her the benefit of the doubt and give her a few minutes to show. Heading towards a soft leather chair in a secluded corner she'd spotted earlier, Amanda made herself comfortable while she waited. She would give her ten minutes after the hour but then dinner called. She might be immortal but no matter how curious she didn't have infinite patience.

The chair gave her an unobstructed view of the entrance and the front desk. While waiting she'd been watching guests checking in with a keen eye. Although she'd agreed years ago to the hotel management's insistence that she not practice her trade on their other patrons, multiple schemes for separating those guests from their valuables were starting to run through her mind, only stopping when she caught a glimpse of her quarry out of the corner of her right eye. Watching her stand hesitantly in the entrance, Amanda was struck again with how familiar the young woman looked. Although physically much younger, with the exception of much darker hair, she was almost identical to someone who'd rescued her from an over-enthusiastic witch hunting mob almost half a millennium before.

Amanda briefly considered the idea that it could be the same person before dismissing it as impossible. Not only had she not appeared to recognize her earlier, this girl wasn't an immortal. It was an unexpected coincidence but however unlikely stranger things had happened to her in the last thousand years. Surreptitiously studying her, she noticed another subtle difference that further confirmed the idea that this wasn't the same person. The unnamed woman who'd rescued her from a painful death before disappearing had moved with an almost ethereal grace, as if she weren't really part of the physical world.

This girl's movements, on the other hand, were very physical and closely resembled the grace of a dangerous animal. Watching her, even when she was standing virtually still was almost hypnotic. There was something fascinating about her presence. Amanda felt like she was watching a small wild cat stalking its prey. She could almost visualize her toying with her prey just for the fun of it.

Shaking her head at the image, Amanda stood up and casually headed in Fann's direction before the girl could change her mind and leave. Amanda smiled at how quickly Fann noticed her approaching in the busy lobby. She wondered if the girl would be interested in assisting with one of the many ventures she had in mind for her stay in the city.

It had been a while since she'd thought of enlisting the help of someone who wasn't immortal in one of her more complex schemes. But something about this girl, and the way she seemed to casually survey her surroundings, was just begging for her to make her a part of her future plans. Not having Duncan around to accuse her of corrupting someone so obviously young and innocent was an added bonus, she thought, a small grin briefly running across her face.

As she approached, Amanda appraised Fann's clothes, looking for clues that would indicate her approachability for her ideas. She couldn't be absolutely sure but Fann appearance just screamed 'runaway' to her. From her clothes to the cut of her hair. She'd certainly seen enough during her long lifetime to notice the small things that separated someone on the run from anyone else. Nodding at her to follow, she briskly headed for the entrance.

Once outside in the sun she stopped and waited for Fann to catch up to her. Giving her a quick smile she addressed her in a quiet voice. "I see you've decided to join me," Amanda said, motioning Fann away from the entrance.

"Yes," Fann said, giving her a slightly confused look, as if she wasn't really sure why she'd decided to show up.

"If you don't mind Chinese, there's a good place just down the street," Amanda suggested.

"Sure. That's okay," Fann assured her.

"Great!" Amanda told her. "We can talk there." As they started walking down the street, Amanda noticed that Fann kept giving her a slightly concerned look. "If you have any questions that can't wait go ahead and ask," She said, giving her a small grin. "I don't make it a habit of biting."

"I was kind of wondering why you'd invited me to dinner," Fann asked as they strode down the sidewalk.

"I have to have a motive? I can't just do it to apologize for running into you this afternoon?" Amanda asked.

Fann shrugged. "You don't seem like the type."

"What type am I?" Amanda asked, stopping abruptly halfway down the block and giving Fann a curious look.

"Rich. Kind of snobby." Tucking her hands into her pockets, Fann gave her half a smile as if she'd spoken in jest.

Amanda laughed, shaking her head at the cheeky answer Fann had given her. Being able to cultivate a certain image was a useful skill in her line of work but normally she didn't get such a blunt assessment of how well it was working. "You need to work on your people watching skills. What gave you those ideas?"

Frowning at her question, Fann looked at her intently for a moment before answering. Feeling like a bug under a microscope, Amanda inexplicably felt the hair on the back of her neck rising in response.

"The rich part is easy to figure out. Your car. Your clothes. That hotel. They all scream 'money'. Lots of it," Fann told her.

"And the snobby part?" Amanda asked, wrinkling her nose in thought. She didn't think she'd said anything in their short acquaintance to give her that impression.

"The way you walk and talk," Fann told her. "And the hotel."

"The hotel?" Amanda echoed, slightly puzzled. She liked that particular hotel and stayed in it every time she was in town.

"It's that kind of place," Fann said, shrugging. "I bet you can't get a room there unless you are related to De Gaulle."

"Charles De Gaulle?" Amanda asked, raising an eyebrow in surprise. "Do you even know who he was?"

"Yes!" Fann mumbled, blushing. "Some snobby French general. My Gran had a cousin who drove him around during some war. She wasn't impressed the one time she met him."

"Okay. Point taken," Amanda said, laughing. "I'll agree De Gaulle could be snobby. But appearances can be deceiving. I've been staying in that hotel for years. They respect the privacy of their guests."

They continued walking for a few more minutes, Amanda occasionally looking over at her companion but not saying anything, having decided to wait until they were eating.

* * *

The entrance to the restaurant was up a short flight of marble steps, just above ground level. When Amanda had said Chinese she'd expected something just a notch up from a traditional take-out. But this was far outside of her normal experience. She'd spent a lot of her time since running away working in eating establishments where they were lucky to meet payroll on a regular basis and knew all of the signs. From the subtle wealth being displayed as they were escorted to their seats Fann guessed that this wasn't one of them.

From the gold and ivory inlay on the ebony colored table, to the delicate chopsticks that graced their table settings, Fann felt distinctly out of place. She didn't think she was badly dressed but her clothes certainly didn't meet the standards set by her surroundings. Surreptitiously looking at the waitress as she waited to take their order, Fann guessed that even the staff were better dressed than she was. And from the looks she was getting from them as they passed, they were apparently thinking the same thing she was.

She stared at the menu in confusion for a minute before it occurred to her why someone would go to a Chinese restaurant in the French Quarter. It listed a strange mixture of traditional Chinese dishes combined with things she just barely recognized from the Cajun and Creole cookbooks she'd run across in the Eerie public library while researching the next stage of her journey. Cooking wasn't something she'd developed beyond the basic skills needed to avoid starving but she hoped to have a chance to try some of them some day.

She frowned at her menu, not quite sure what to order. Even the Chinese entrées had French descriptions that a year of high school French hadn't prepared her for. There wasn't a word of English anywhere on it. She could sense Amanda's amusement even without look across the table at her.

"Would you like me to order for you?" Amanda asked her with a small laugh.

"Okay," Fann agreed grudgingly, resigning herself to Amanda's unknown tastes in food. She tried not to appear too impressed as Amanda ordered, speaking fluently with the waitress in a language that wasn't French or English.

* * *

Amanda waited patiently until their food had arrived and they were alone again. Before bringing up what she thought was one of her best ideas in a while, she needed to know if her companion was available. Gesturing with her half full wine glass at the young woman awkwardly attempting to eat with chopsticks, she asked, "What are your plans when you finish school?"

"Plans?" Fann shook her head, giving her a guarded look. "I'm not in school."

"What did your parents think when you quit?" Amanda asked her, more interested in fishing for other information about her dinner companion than the answer to that question.

"Who says I quit?" Fann protested.

Amanda looked at her with an experienced eye. "Since you can't be more than sixteen, you've either quit school or run away from home."

"I'm not sixteen!" Fann protested. "I'm almost eighteen," she told Amanda before blushing in obvious mortification at blurting out her true age to a stranger. "Oops."

"And your parents let you meet strange women for dinner?" Amanda asked in another attempt to get more information. She'd never been a parent but from observing the way MacLeod behaved around children and teenagers he'd helped over the years she was sure that Fann's parents must be worried about her. It wouldn't do her plans any good if someone showed up and dragged Fann home in the middle of a project.

Amanda's suspicions were confirmed when Fann looked down guiltily at her plate.

"Why do you want to know?" Fann asked quietly.

"Answer my question and I might tell you."

Fann looked up from her plate and stared her in the eyes, almost as if in challenge. "My parents are dead."

"No other family?" Amanda asked in what she hoped was a gentle voice. Sympathy for the chaotic lives of mortals was not something she had much practice with.

Fann gave her a suspicious look. Amanda could almost see the wheels turning in her head as she decided what to tell her. "My Gran died last Spring. Gran's friends mean well but I had to get away for a while. I needed some time just to be me. I thought it would be easier to do that on my own, so I left."

Perfect, Amanda thought to herself, suppressing a delighted grin. She was sure there was more to the story than that but it could wait. And she was also sure she could convince Fann to work with her. "Do you plan to finish school?"

"Someday I might," Fann said, frowning at the question. "Why?"

"I run a small business," Amanda told her. "I find things for people. How would you like to come work for me?"

"Why me?" Fann asked warily. Amanda gave her another friendly smile.

"I have several projects coming up that you would be perfect for," Amanda said with a shrug. "I normally work alone but there are times when two people are better than one."

"And?" Fann prompted with a suspicious tone.

"You remind me of someone I owe a favor to," Amanda told her, not quite lying. "She's not around anymore so I can't repay her. It would make me feel better to help you out in her place." She shrugged. "Also, I'm tired of working by myself and you obviously could use the job." She waved a hand at Fann's clothes.

"What else?" Fann seemed to expect a better explanation than that before agreeing to anything so Amanda decided to risk it and tell her.

"Okay..." She looked around to make sure no one was listening to their conversation. "Sometimes I need to get things from people who don't exactly want to give them to me. They are less likely to be suspicious if someone your age were with me." She could tell Fann still didn't quite get it.

"Are we talking about a real job? Or just a temporary thing?" Fann frowned at her again.

"If it works out it doesn't have to be temporary," Amanda told her. She didn't want to promise any more than that. Not everyone had the inclination or skill to succeed in her current profession.

"What does it pay," Fann asked reluctantly, "and is it dangerous?"

"Well, since you would be just starting out I could pay for the basics like food, clothes, and necessary equipment," Amanda admitted. "But it's mostly commission based. And it isn't dangerous most of the time"

"Most of the time?" Echoing Amanda's comment, Fann's voice squeaked.

"Some people object to giving me their things." Leaning back in her chair, wine glass in hand, Amanda winked at Fann. "It can be quite exciting at times." From her expression, Amanda could see the exact moment when Fann understood what Amanda was telling her.

Fann choked on her tea when she tried to speak. "You're a thief? You... you... steal things?"

Amanda didn't think her eyes could open any wider. She grimaced and tried to clarify things. "That's such a crude way to describe it. I'm a specialist. We aren't talking about breaking windows to steal televisions during a riot. There are probably less than seven people in the world that even come close to me in skill." Modesty really wasn't something she wasted much time on, though if pressed she would have to admit to exaggerating just a little. But Fann wouldn't know that.

"And you want me to work with you?" Fann muttered in apparent surprise.

"Sure! Why not. I think you would be perfect for it," Amanda said, smiling at her. "It'll be fun. I'll teach you everything you need to know."

"I need to think about it," Fann told her.

"Okay." She didn't attempt to sway her. Amanda wasn't sure why anyone would not want to join her but she could wait a day or two for her to think about it. "I'm in town until Friday. Once I'm gone..." she paused. "...so is the offer." She motioned at the food remaining on the table. "Why don't you eat up. Aren't teenagers always hungry?"

Fann blushed but reached for one of the entrees and helped herself.

* * *

Later that night, alone again, Fann wandered aimlessly around New Orleans, thinking about Amanda's offer. Except for running away and constantly lying about her age, she hadn't done anything that she thought was really illegal. She didn't count all the times she'd been paid under the table while working at some shop or diner. Avoiding taxes was a well known American past-time where she was from. And Amanda hadn't given her the impression that people would throw parades in their honor for a job well-done. She could really use her Gran's advice right now. She wasn't sure what to do.

Fann's restlessness took her down to the docks just before dawn. The oppressive atmosphere she'd felt everywhere seemed to be lighter near the water. The tangy smell of the large body of salt water, mixed with the musty odor of rotting seaweed, wasn't totally unfamiliar to the Maine native. Although she hadn't grown up on the ocean, her Gran had taken her beach combing every summer when she was still alive to gather shells for one of her many art projects. Standing at the edge of the water and breathing deeply, Fann looked out at the collection of rusty ships lining the nearby piers.

For the first time in months Fann really thought about what her Gran would have had to say about her trip. Her Gran had travelled a lot during her youth, though by the time Fann was living with her all she had were her memories. She'd told Fann stories to amuse her almost nightly the first few year she'd lived with her. It had given her something else to think about after her parents had disappeared. Fann had avidly absorbed her Gran's tales and had often imagined herself traveling to the exotic places she heard so much about.

She would like to think that her Gran would have agreed with her actions so far. She wasn't too sure that the idea that she was seriously considering spending time in the company of someone like Amanda would have met with her complete approval though.

* * *

**Chapter Notes:**  
* No, this is not anything femslashy... Amanda is not trying to 'pick her up'! I have no plans to change the whole Amanda & MacLeod thing.  
* Fann is pronounced "Fawn" - It's Irish. It's also the name of one of the mythical Sidhe queens.


	5. To Catch A Thief

**Disclaimer:** See previous chapters.  
**Revision Posted:** 18-Jul-2009

* * *

**Chapter Title:** _To Catch A Thief_

Sheltered from the early morning wind by her position among the pile of small crates she'd found next to the shore, Fann stared unseeing towards the water. She wasn't sure how long she'd been sitting there, her arms wrapped around her knees, when a strange sound, almost like loose silverware in an industrial dishwasher, carried over the water to her, shaking her from her melancholic thoughts.

Startled, she looked across the bay, in the direction where the sound seemed to be coming from, but even after she'd stood up on the tallest crate it was too far away to see anything. Over the past few months she'd learned to take advantage of the improvements in her hearing, which now seemed much better than most other people, but judging distance by sounds she could hear wasn't something she was able to do with any accuracy yet.

As the sounds continued to reverberate across the bay, curiosity overcame her common sense and she found her feet subconsciously taking her away from her sheltered position in the direction of the sounds. Keeping to the shadows, Fann crept slowly along the shore towards the pier where she suspected they was coming from. As she got closer it became less scattered and oddly more familiar, in a distant memory kind of way, much like something from a dream or old movie.

She reached the entrance to the pier and made her way carefully down it until she reached a wall of haphazardly placed plastic crates. Hiding behind them, she looked in amazement towards the end of the pier, where the causes of the noises she'd been following were revealed and she was able to distinguish individual sounds.

The last few hundred feet of the cement pier was hidden from public view by a high wooden wall along its edges. Within this large area the pier was empty of any obstructions. It was bathed in an eery bright light falling down from several huge klieg lights hung high overhead.

In the middle of the impromptu arena two people where engaged in a vicious display of swordsmanship. From her position, even with her enhanced vision she could only just barely follow the movements of their blades and arms. They moved in a quick blur, making it hard for her to identify anything more about them than their gender.

Although one of the combatants, a man, seemed to tower over the other by at least a foot, to Fann's inexperienced eyes they seemed evenly matched. The other, a tall thin woman, seemed to be able to stay just out of his reach, only occasionally getting past his guard and inflicting minor damage. The seriousness of the situation was apparent every time their blades collided. She could tell that their complex dance was not just for show.

It took her several minutes of stealthy movement along the crates to get close enough to see their faces clearly. She watched in shock as Amanda fought against a large man in a deadly display. She'd been watching from several minutes, from a sheltered corner between the crates and the outer wall, when the man suddenly jumped forward and drove his heavy looking sword past Amanda's guard and through her side.

She watched in horror as he seemed to gather himself for a final blow. Raising his sword he shouted something that made no sense to her high school French.

Without thinking, Fann grabbed a nearby piece of pipe and jumped out from the crates. She ran across the open area towards the two as swiftly as possible. Swinging her pipe and diving forward, she knocked him away from Amanda, her pipe banging against the sword in his hand as he turned towards her in surprise.

Quickly getting to her feet and standing over the unconscious Amanda, Fann deflected his next swing with the short pipe, wincing at the force of the blow.

"Get out of my way girl!" He growled at her in an unidentifiable accent. "You're interfering in something you should stay out of."

Fann ignored his comments and focused on his weapon, just barely keeping him from reaching the downed woman. From Amanda's stillness as she lay on the ground, she had a bad feeling that she'd been too late, but she was too busy deflecting his blows to confirm it. He attacked over and over again, muttering under his breath in some language she couldn't understand.

She could feel herself tiring quickly, aching and bleeding from the multitude of small cuts he'd inflicted as he tried to get past her. She had the speed and strength to keep up with him for now but she knew that she couldn't last much longer against his skill.

Nothing in her experience had prepared her to deal with this kind of situation, not even the things she'd seen in her often graphically violent dreams. She knew she needed to get him away from Amanda. Now, while she still had the energy. The next time he drew back his sword, leaving her an opening, she dove forward under his swing, wildly waving her pipe. She could feel the dull thud as her pipe contacted his sword arm.

He stopped attacking and stepping back, stared at her in shock, dropping his sword. "Damn it!" He yelled at her. "You've broken my arm."

Not stopping to give him a chance to pick up his sword with his other hand, Fann grabbed a long wooden pole she'd spotted lying nearby. Swinging it wildly in front of her, she drove him further from Amanda until his back was to the wall of crates that shielded that end of the pier from public view. Reacting instinctively, Fann drove the end of the pole through his shoulder, wincing as she felt it slide along bone before it traveled completely through his shoulder and impaled him to one of the larger crates.

He stood there, his broken sword-arm dangling uselessly at his side, grimacing as he tugged at the pole. She watched him warily, breathing heavily, in shock at her own actions. Carefully backing up and keeping her eyes on him, Fann squatted down to check Amanda, finding to her dismay that she hadn't prevent him from killing her after all. She was probably dead even before Fann had jumped in to save her.

She picked up Amanda's sword and angrily stepped closer. It felt cold and heavy in her hands, unlike the wooden pole she'd held briefly minutes ago. But with only a vague idea of how to use it she faced him awkwardly, unsure of what to do with him. Not feeling very sympathetic to his plight, she was tempted to leave him there for someone else to find after the sun came up.

Before she could make a decision she heard a low groan. She turned in surprise to see the woman she'd thought was dead attempting to get to her feet. Forgetting about the man she'd impaled, Fann rushed over and squatting down next to her again. Dropping her sword, Fann wrapped her arms around the shaky woman.

"I hate dying," Amanda grumbled, her voice muffled by Fann's shoulder as she was pressed into it by Fann's relieved hug. Through her hug, Fann could feel her straining to get up. Pushing herself erect, she pulled Amanda up with her, keeping her in a tight grip.

"Dying?" Fann asked. "You were really dead?"

Fann could feel Amanda mumble her answer through her shirt. "Yes."

Fann loosened her grip and as soon as it was clear to her that Amanda could stand on her own, she stepped back, keeping one hand resting lightly on Amanda's shoulder.

"Can we save the explanations for later?" Amanda asked plaintively. "It's been a long day and I'm exhausted."

"What about..." she turned to point out where Amanda's foe was stuck to the crate. Her jaw dropped when she saw that he was gone. She stared at the spot but there was nothing to tell how he'd escaped. "He was there a minute ago," she protested, turning back to Amanda.

"It's alright," Amanda told her, her regret clear in her voice. "He doesn't like to stick around when he loses." She picked up her sword, hiding it under her coat with a quick maneuver Fann wasn't able to follow.

Fann looked back and forth between Amanda and the crate. Something very very strange was obviously going on. "Oh," she mumbled, not sure what else to say.

They walked slowly back to Amanda's hotel. Although she was obviously tired, for someone who'd looked dead less than an hour ago, Fann thought Amanda had quite a bit of energy. But she didn't seem to be in any hurry to explain the earlier events. She followed Amanda into the hotel and up to her suite, her body buzzing like she'd drunk too much coffee in too short a time.

* * *

Once in her suite, Amanda hung up her coat and sword before collapsing in the chair furthest from the door. She waved a hand at Fann, pointing at another chair in the room. She still wore the same puzzled look Amanda had seen on her face when she'd come back to life earlier. She rarely found herself in the position of having to explain herself to a non-immortal but unless she could suddenly perform magic to make Fann forget what she'd seen she didn't think she had much choice.

"Why don't you order us something from room service?" Amanda suggested, pointing at the phone. "Anything you want, as long as one of the things you order has meat in it."

Fann ignored her request. "What are you?"

"Tired and hungry," Amanda grumbled. "If you're going to stay, you need to get me something to eat." She glared at Fann, hoping she would take the hint.

Fann gave her a sheepish look before grabbing the phone and the room service menu. "Anything?" she asked.

"Yes. And a lot of it." At Fann's unasked question she tried to answer as simply as possible. "It takes a lot of energy to go through something like that. I need to eat now or I'll sleep all day tomorrow recovering."

"Oh," Fann said, before turning back to the phone and calling room service.

Amanda stayed in her chair, saying nothing further as she waited for the food to arrive. Observing Fann she noticed that she seemed to be very agitated. She couldn't seem to sit still, continually getting up and wandering around the suite before dropping back into her own chair. She wondered what was causing Fann's behavior but was too exhausted to do anything about it.

Falling into a light sleep, she was awoken by a knock on the door. Pushing herself erect, she waved Fann to the door and watched with amusement as she efficiently dealt with the curious hotel employee delivering her food. She seemed to have recovered her composure.

"Go ahead," she told her, seeing her staring hungrily at the food on the dining cart. "I'm sure you ordered enough for both of us."

"Thanks," Fann mumbled before quickly removing covers from the collection of dishes. "What do you want?"

"A little bit of everything to start with," Amanda told her, getting up slowly from her soft chair. Walking over to the small table Fann had quickly placing the dishes on, she sat down and picked up a fork.

She let Fann eat everything on her plate and had made a good start on her own food before saying anything else. "Do you always eat so much?" She asked Fann, giving her a small smile as she watched the girl fill her plate again.

"No." Fann looked a little embarrassed but she didn't stop eating. "That fight with that guy with the sword... I was starving after." She shrugged. "It's never happened before. But I haven't been in a fight like that before." She mumbled.

"I'll have to remember that for the future," Amanda said, winking at her. "You get hungry after a fight."

"The future?" Fann echoed hesitantly.

"Well, I'm assuming that, since you showed up just in the nick of time, you want to come work for me."

"Yes." She took another bite from the large omelet that she'd just put on her plate. "As long as it doesn't involve too much fighting." Amanda could see her visibly shudder. "That sword thing was kind of scary. And painful."

"Okay," Amanda said, pausing for a moment and looking at her closely, but not seeing any signs of any real damage. "I can't guarantee that it will never happen again. But you shouldn't have to worry about defending yourself from someone with a sword in the future." I hope, she continued silently to herself, glad she wasn't famous like MacLeod. She didn't usually have to worry about headhunters; except when she was around him. "It's me they would be after and I can take care of myself."

Fann gave her a skeptical look and Amanda shook her head. "No, this morning's encounter wasn't normal. Except here." She sighed. "Luis and I go back a long way. He looks me up every time I'm here, we have our little fight, and nothing much happens."

"Dying is nothing much?" Fann stared at her aghast, putting down her fork.

"Yes. It obviously wasn't permanent," Amanda answered, negligently waving her free hand. "And while I appreciate the help, if you see something like that again, you can't interfere."

"He said that also," Fann told her. "Why not? I'm just supposed to let someone kill you? And why wasn't it permanent? If someone stabbed me like that I would still be dead." Fann asked.

"I'm not really sure how to explain this," Amanda said to her, reaching for the wine bottle. "But before I start I need you to promise you won't tell anyone any of this."

"Sure..." Fann said reluctantly.

"There are a few people in the world who are able to survive things like that. I know what you think you saw but I wasn't truly dead," Amanda said, popping a piece of muffin into her mouth.

"Sure looked like it," Fann said. "And even if you weren't dead, why aren't you bleeding all over the place? I'm still sore and I was only cut a couple times by him."

"For the same reason I'm not dead," Amanda said. "I heal very quickly after something like that. It's exhausting and I need to eat as soon after something like that as I can but... I'm still here."

"So why did that guy, Luis, want to fight you?" Fann asked, "And is he one of those people?"

"It's a thing he has," she said dismissively, not really interested in going into the whole sordid story, though she could easily recall her first encounter with him several centuries before. "Some day one of us will win."

"How can you win?"

"It's part of the Game," Amanda admitted. "Which is why you can't interfere again."

"The Game? What's that?" Fann asked.

"Well..." She paused for a sip of wine. "It's not true that we can't be killed. You just need to know how. One of the advantages of not dying like other people... is that we live for a very long time."

Fann stared at her. "How long is a long time?"

"I'm not sure. Long enough that some people started calling us immortals." She shrugged dismissively. "It's as good a name as any. I've managed to avoid dying for a thousand years, but I know there are immortals older than myself out there."

"Oh..." Fann looked at her, her surprise very evident. "So what is this game you don't want me to interfere with?"

"The Game..." Amanda mused, "is a contest to the death between all immortals. No one is really sure what the prize is but the last immortal left alive gets it. Whatever it is."

"And you have to do this?" Fann's face expressed her horror at the thought.

"We don't all actively participate in the Game," Amanda admitted. "Some of us only fight when we don't have any choice. I would rather spend my time doing other things," she said, winking at Fann.

"Oh." Fann stopped for a moment to refill her plate again. "Is there anything I need to know?"

"Yes. There are several rules most of us follow."

"Like what?" Fann asked.

"One on one fights. Usually with swords. And once a fight starts, no one is supposed to interfere." Fann shifted nervously and Amanda wondered what she was thinking. They hadn't discussed yet what had happened between the time Luis had killed her and she'd come back.

"Why swords?"

"Mostly because it's traditional. Other weapons work but most of us prefer something with a sharp edge." Amanda grimaced, knowing she was taking a risk trusting Fann enough to reveal her one real vulnerability as an immortal. "And because the only way to really kill an immortal involves removing their head. Swords are the easiest way to do that."

"Ick." Fann gulped and pushed away her plate. "So if I hadn't stopped him, this Luis... eww..."

"Yes. I would now be a foot shorter." Amanda told her bluntly.

"Are there any other rules?"

"Just one. Immortals don't fight on holy ground."

"Why? What's special about holy ground?"

"I'm not really sure." Amanda admitted, "But there are legends that say something bad will happen if an immortal's Quickening is taken on holy ground."

"Quickening?" Fann hesitantly pronounced the word. "What do you mean by that?"

Amanda sighed, amazed at her own patience with Fann's questions. "Whatever makes someone immortal, whatever it is that keeps us alive... whenever an immortal really dies, that power is released and goes into the nearest immortal. It can be dangerous for any bystanders."

"Is it magic?" Amanda detected a curious tone in Fann's question.

"I'm not sure. It isn't anything like any other real magic that I've seen."

"Oh..." Fann looked vaguely disappointed and Amanda filed away her reaction for later thought, briefly wondering why she hadn't objected to the idea of magic.

"You're taking this fairly calmly," Amanda noted.

"Well, I've seen some weirder things than that this year," Fann admitted. "Finding out there are people out there who could live almost forever but who seem to want to kill each other instead... might be disturbing but isn't a big deal."

"Okay," Amanda said. Getting up from the table, she stretched, feeling much better after eating. "I've changed my mind about the job offer."

"Huh?" Fann looked at her.

"I was originally thinking I could use an assistant for a couple jobs this year and maybe next, but after this morning I think that would be a waste. If you can chase someone like Luis away, you obviously have more potential than I thought."

"Okay..." Fann frowned at her.

"It won't pay any more but I think there are several advantages for both of us," Amanda mused.

"Advantages to what?"

Amanda paused for effect. "How would you like to be my apprentice?"

* * *

**AN1:** This story takes place in a multi-fandom story universe of my own invention that, in addition to _Highlander_ and _Eerie, Indiana_, includes characters and ideas from _Harry Potter_ and _Tomb Raider_. Those stories, centered around Buffy, Faith, and Willow, can be found on _Twisting the Hellmouth_.  
**AN2:** I'm well aware of the **Wanderverse** and **Journeyverse** stories. My story universe is already complex enough without adding that to the mix.


	6. Learning A Trade

**Disclaimer:** See previous chapters.  
**Revision Updated:** 18-Jul-2009

* * *

**Chapter Title:** _Learning a Trade_

Fann gaped at her. "Apprentice?"

"Yes." Amanda reached over and grabbed an apple from the table. She wandered around the suite, occasionally taking a bite, deep in thought. Fann watched her, wondering what she was thinking about.

"Think about it," Amanda said, stopping in front of her. She stood there for a minute, her hands on her hips, her head cocked to the right. "You do understand that I'm not doing this just to be nice? Or to repay an old debt? Though that is part of it."

Fann nodded. She'd suspected as much but hadn't actually expected Amanda to be so honest about her motives.

"I've decided that if I'm going to invest so much time in teaching you what I know, I need a more formal relationship than I'd originally planned," Amanda said, giving her a serious look. "Something more than just your word."

"Like what?" Fann asked. "You can't just say I'm your apprentice or assistant?"

"No," Amanda said bluntly without any explanation. She wandered around the room for a little longer. The next time she stopped in front of Fann there was a strange gleam in her eye that made Fann slightly nervous. "Okay. I've got it. I don't deal with them very often but for this it should be okay."

"Who?" Fann asked curiously.

"The Thieves Guild," Amanda told her. "They still have offices in most large cities."

"That sounds like something out of a novel or some game." Fann grinned at her at the thought.

"They don't advertise their presence but they're real enough." Amanda told her. "They used to be much more important several centuries ago when it was easier to move around without being noticed, but there still are benefits to belonging to the Guild."

"Like what?" Fann asked.

"Guild members don't steal from each other, for one thing." Amanda winked at her. "It means there is less competition."

"What else?"

"Members can use the Guild's library. There are bigger ones but they have really good historical records of where certain objects might be." Amanda pulled out her chair and spun it around so its back faced Fann, before sitting on it, her arms resting on the back. "They have other services, like job referrals and appraisers, that can be useful though I don't normally need such things myself. And they'll let you know if someone is looking for you."

"So, if I agree, what happens?" Fann asked. "Do I go down to the local office and sign up?"

"No. It isn't that easy. Which is probably why they aren't as well known anymore. And they don't really want people bothering them because of something they read in a book," Amanda said, shaking her head. "You have to be sponsored by a member in good standing." She said. "Like me."

There was something about her smile and the way she said it that was disturbing but she was too tired to care, Fann thought, trying to hide a yawn. She hadn't gotten any sleep the night before and it was starting to catch up to her.

She apparently hadn't hidden it was well enough, she found out a few minutes later. Coming back into the room after trying to clean up her damaged clothes in the suite's bathroom, Fann slumped tiredly onto the nearest chair.

Not giving her a chance to get comfortable, Amanda quickly sent her off to bed. "You need to get some sleep and then we'll go get you registered as my apprentice. And then we'll need to find a place somewhere quiet for a few months so you can learn enough of the basics so you don't embarrass me by getting caught."

"Okay," Fann said, getting back up. "When do you want me back here?"

"I'm not tired now," Amanda told her. "You can use the bed."

Fann looked at her suspiciously, wondering if Amanda didn't trust her enough to let her out of her sight, but couldn't tell anything from her calm expression. "Okay... wake me up when you need me?" Amanda nodded and pointed her in the direction of the bedroom.

* * *

Quickly putting her plan into action, while Fann slept Amanda used the phone, talking to real estate agents and her bank, looking for a place she could use for her plans. There were certain things it would need. A house wouldn't be big enough but something next door to one would be a good start. And nothing too conspicuous.

The cost wasn't a big issue. Even without digging into her long term investments, she still have plenty of money left over from her last serious job. The more difficult part would be the changes she would need to have made to the building.

She was still working out the details when Fann wandered out of the bedroom. Amanda put down the faxes she'd been examining and stood up. "Good. You're up. Let's get you cleaned up and changed and we can go down to the Guild office." She turned a protesting Fann around and headed her back to the bedroom. She had several things she was sure Fann could wear that would look a lot better on her than the clothes she was still wearing from her encounter with Luis that morning.

* * *

Sitting alone in the Guild's outer office, Fann squirmed in her seat, uncomfortable in the clothes Amanda had insisted she wear. She wasn't short but Amanda was several inches taller. The only thing she'd had that Fann had been able to wear made her feel years younger than she actually was. She wasn't sure if she really wanted to know why Amanda had what looked like a Catholic school girl uniform in her possession. She was just glad that Amanda had agreed to take her back to her motel afterward so she could change into something else.

She was startled out of her thoughts by Amanda's return, accompanied by a leering old man.

"I see what you mean, Lady Darieux." He told her, rubbing his palms against his legs, leaving dark marks. "She'll do well for the kinds of things you have in mind."

"Yes." Amanda told him. From her body language, Fann could clearly see her distaste at being in his presence but it didn't register in her voice.

"I'll get the papers for her to sign." He told her before turning around and heading back down the hallway.

"Lady Darieux?" Fann asked as soon as he was gone.

Amanda just shrugged. "They have a long memory. I haven't used that in centuries."

"They don't have any problem with the whole...?" she mimicked waving a sword.

"Not the ones who know. There are stranger Guild members."

Further discussion was interrupted by the return on the old man. He handed documents to both women. "The fees are all paid. The bank approved the transfer from your accounts. Here you go. The five year papers." He turned back to Fann with a smirk. "She must have a lot of confidence in you. Most Guild apprenticeships are ten years." He watched Amanda and Fann sign them, before grabbing them out of their hands. Examining the documents, he produced a large stamp out of a pocket and pressed it over the signature before handing one copy to Amanda and keeping the other.

Fann watched him shuffle off before turning back to Amanda. "Fees?"

"Don't worry. I'll explain later," she said, heading towards the door. "We need to get going."

* * *

"Why Tucson?" Fann asked her later that day. They had stopped at Fann's motel on their way back from the Guild office so Fann could change. Amanda used the moment to quickly tell her about the small building on the outskirts of Tucson, Arizona with an adjoining house and garage that she'd purchased with the intention of having it turned into a place where she could begin Fann's training.

"Right now, how much do you know?" Amanda asked, leaning against her car and watching the young woman examine her bike.

"About your profession?" Fann stepped back from her bike and turned towards her. "I know you, ah, liberate objects from all sorts of places and sell or keep them. But how? Or why? No idea yet. I'm assuming that you'll be teaching me that kind of thing."

"Yes, as my apprentice you'll be learning the fine art of object acquisition," Amanda said smiling at Fann's expression. "And to start out I need you to learn as much as you can about how people protect their possessions and how to get around those protections. And you need to learn that in a safe place. Before you actually start helping me. Tucson is that safe place."

"Okay," Fann answered. "When do we start?"

"I have several things to finish up here and then I can meet you at the house in Tucson a week from now," Amanda said. "Or we can arrange for your bike to be shipped there and you can go with me."

"Directions to this house?" Fann asked, ignoring Amanda's other suggestion. "And what do I do while I wait for you to show up?"

"You can spend the time until I get there exploring Tucson. You aren't going to have much free time once we get started," Amanda told her. "I have directions back at my hotel. I'll give them to you after dinner." Amanda climbed into her car and waved Fann over. "Come along."

* * *

Two months of intense training followed Amanda's arrival and their occupation of the house. Although Fann briefly wondered who had set up the building they were using for her training she was soon too busy to care as Amanda drilled what she referred to as the pillars of her trade into Fann.

In the mornings Amanda taught Fann how to use a wide variety of different types of special burglary tools and other equipment she'd found useful over the years. Afternoons were spent with the physical aspects of her craft. Evenings they spent pouring over details of various jobs Amanda had done in the past and how they had gone. She didn't share just her successes. Fann noticed that Amanda spent just as much time dissecting the jobs that had blown up in her face, not sparing herself criticism.

Through this Fann noticed that it wasn't just the knowledge of hundreds of locks and security systems that had made Amanda successful. There was a very physical element involved. A master thief of her stature and experience apparently required the skills of a trained acrobat.

While Fann had the manual dexterity and flexible mind to learn to use the tools of her new trade, it was the physical aspect where she really shone. She noticed she was continually amazing Amanda with her strength and agility. And she tried to not let it go to her head but she found that she was able to quickly pick up any task Amanda set her. But after a stray comment to Amanda about how exhausting she'd found her short bout with Luis back in New Orleans, she wasn't surprised when Amanda shifted the focus of her physical training more towards endurance than strength.

* * *

Fann twisted in the harness, head down, as she struggled to unlock the door. "Why am I doing this again?" she grumbled to herself as she tried to move only the barest amount.

"Because I told you to," a quiet voice off to her left said. "You aren't always going to be able to easily access a door. Now that you've learned to pick any mechanical lock you might run into you have to be able to do it when you can't touch the floor or even the door itself."

Twisting her head slightly, Fann stuck out her tongue at the blonde master thief. "Well, you've had years to learn how to do this. I've only been learning this for the last two months," she pretended to protest.

"This is only the beginning. The easy part. If you want to work with me there are a lot of things you need to be able to do like this that combine the different things you've been learning." Amanda shook her head. "They don't just leave things lying around waiting to be picked up. That's a bit much to expect, no matter how much I would like it." Amanda grinned. "And we want to get in and out without being noticed. It's safer that way. And more challenging."

Fann had continued to work on the last lock even as Amanda chastised her. With one last click the door opened. Fann hung there for a minute, squirreling her tools securely away in a pocket. "Happy?" she asked the other woman.

"Yes. Why don't you get down from there and we'll go get lunch." Amanda told her. "We can talk about the next part of your training."

Fann reached up above her harness and pulled herself upright. She quickly disconnected the harness from the rope and dropped down lightly beside Amanda who just shook her head. "What?" she asked.

Amanda tilted her head and gave her another look. "I'm just amazed at how strong you are."

"There's nothing special about me," Fann protested.

"We both know that isn't true," was her answer. "I'm sure there's a reason why you are so strong and why you're learning things so quickly."

"It doesn't feel quick," Fann grumbled. "You've had me working on those locks and safes for weeks now."

"Take my word for it," Amanda told her. "I don't know anyone else who could learn this quickly. It's almost like magic."

"Magic?" Fann looked at her in amazement. "You mean spells, and wands, and things like that that people can control? Something different than the thing that makes you immortal? You've mentioned it before but I didn't think you were serious." She'd had occasional glimpses in her more graphic dreams of people doing something she'd assumed was magic but she'd never mentioned anything about her dreams to Amanda. And she hadn't seen any proof yet that the events she dreamed about were even real, though she suspected they were.

"I don't know much about the things you've mentioned but over the years I've run into people who could do something they called magic," Amanda said, shrugging. "At the rate you're learning we should be ready for a real job in another month. I've got just the thing for your first few jobs but I'll need to see a friend first. If you want to meet a real witch that'll be your first chance."

"A witch? Does she have a name?" Fann asked curiously.

"Cassandra," Amanda told her, motioning her towards the door and her car.

"Like the Greek Cassandra?" Fann gave her a look. She'd gotten used to the idea of Amanda being immortal because she seemed to be so normal but occasionally she would mention something that reminded Fann of how old she really was.

"Yes. That Cassandra," Amanda said, smirking at her. "Though according to her she isn't actually Greek."

"Can you trust what she says?" Fann asked.

"Yes. Now, where did you want to have lunch?" Amanda asked as they climbed into her small car.

"Surprise me." Fann told her with a smile. "You know I can eat anything you like."

"Okay. Prepare to be surprised," Amanda said, starting up her car. And with a squeal of tires they were off.

* * *

They easily found seats in the back of the small restaurant. After they ordered lunch, Fann looked around trying to see everything without being to conspicuous. "This is different," she said softly.

"Yes. I try to come here at least once every time I'm in Tucson for more than a week," Amanda told her, apparently amused by her reaction. "It's also very private."

"Okay." Fann took a sip of her iced tea and leaned back with a sigh. "So what did you want to discuss?"

"Two things. First - self defense," Amanda told her. "It's something you need to start thinking about."

"Why?" Fann asked. "It's not like I have people trying to kill me."

"Not yet," Amanda said. "But you have two good reasons to learn how to defend yourself."

"What?" Fann asked curiously.

"One - You are working with me. While another immortal probably isn't going to attack you they might involve you in any attempts to attack me. If you can take care of yourself you are less likely to become a hostage."

"Oh. So some immortals like to play rough?" Fann asked faintly. This wasn't an aspect she'd thought about. She realized she'd been relying too much on Amanda's earlier claim that she would be safe from any immortals.

"Very. And two - we're in a very competitive business. Although we shouldn't have to worry about Guild members there are other people who will try to stop you or try to steal from you. You are strong enough to protect yourself, once you know how."

"Okay. But how am I going to do that?" Fann frowned at Amanda. "You already have me so busy I don't have any time left for anything else."

"Well, unless you want to learn just how to use a sword..."

"No!" Fann blurted out.

Amanda grinned slightly at Fann's reaction. "I'm not the best person to teach you how to defend yourself. And we probably won't be in Tucson long enough for you to start learning from anyone here. But I do have a friend in Washington who runs a dojo who would probably be willing to train you."

"Okay. What's the other thing?"

"I think you've got a good beginning with the technical aspects of all of this," Amanda told her. "If that were all it took you would be ready to start. But the things we acquire belong to people or are guarded by people. To be really successful, you need to start learning how people really think. You should be able to walk into a bar, and just by watching the people there know who you can steal from and who to avoid."

"So what is the plan?" Fann asked. "How do I learn that?"

"We'll start working on your observation skills over the next month." Amanda raised her glass and took a sip. "If you are as adept at that as everything else I've taught you, next month we'll go visit Cassandra. You should be ready for some real world experience by then." Amanda paused for a moment to take a bite of lunch. "After I've talked with her we'll do a few small jobs I have lined up to test your progress."

"What kind of jobs," Fann asked.

"A couple favors for a friend. Real enough but not too dangerous."

"And then what?"

"We'll pay a visit to Mac in Seacover," Amanda said, and grinned to herself at something she found amusing.

"Mac?" Fann asked.

"Duncan MacLeod. He's the friend with the dojo." Amanda looked over at her. "He should be able to give you a good grounding in self defense."

"How long should that take?" she asked curiously.

"I don't really know. I think at least a few months to get the basics. We can do some smaller jobs as training while that is happening."

"Okay." She looked down at her plate and realized to her great disappointment that she'd eaten everything there but couldn't remember what it had tasted like.

* * *

**Notes:**

* I didn't spend a lot of time on the actual training. Whole books could be written on that subject. And movies (Check out that one with Sean Connery and what's-her-name.). Putting it here would have been exceedingly boring.

***** The _Thieves Guild_ mentioned in this part doesn't really exist. It is something I **invented** for this story. It does not have any intentional resemblences to any fictional or RPG 'Thieves Guild'.


	7. Of Seers and Destiny

**Disclaimer:** See previous chapters.  
**Revision Posted:** 18-Jul-2009

* * *

**Chapter Title:** _Of Seers and Destiny_

They landed at a small airport near the Canadian border in the early morning. Fann was still on edge after a short but stressful visit to Chicago where Amanda had put her through a series of challenges designed to test her current skills. The two hours of driving needed to reach the isolated lake Cassandra lived next to just barely provided Fann with the additional time she needed to recover her inner balance.

Arriving at the end of a long, rough gravel road, all that was visible was a small dock jutting out into the mist covered lake. Climbing out of their rental car and looking across the water, Fann could just barely make out a large island covered in pine trees. A small log cabin was visible through the trees. Turning to her companion, who'd joined her on the gravel road next to the dock, "I thought you said she was in hiding?" Fann asked.

"I called her last night. She knows we're coming," Amanda said. "I'm not sure how it works but people she really doesn't want to see can't seem to find her."

Fann looked around with a practiced country eye. "It seems pretty deserted around here. I'm surprised a lake like that isn't crowded with dozens of vacation cabins."

"One of the benefits of a long life. She owns it," Amanda told her with a smug grin. "Her nearest neighbor is miles away. She has it all to herself. Of course, she also likes to appear mysterious. The people in the nearest town probably think she's a witch."

"Oh," Fann said, frowning. "Is that a good thing now-a-days?"

"She does have to put up with visiting Wiccans during their holidays. They think she's some kind of wise woman. Her hiding techniques don't seem to work on them very well," Amanda said with a laugh. "She usually sends them packing quickly. Her ideas about gods and goddesses are quite a bit different than theirs."

Fann snorted, not surprised at that. She was well aware of Amanda's opinions about religion and had assumed that other immortals were also very skeptical about such things. The only thing she seemed to take seriously about any religion was the concept of holy ground.

* * *

From the moment they met Cassandra couldn't seem to take her eyes off of her apprentice, even though she was ostensibly talking with Amanda while they drank tea in her small, cozy cabin.

It had been going on for almost twenty minutes before Fann apparently had had enough of the sideways glances and finally blurted out "Stop it! Why do you keep staring at me!" she demanded. Amanda stared at her normally mild mannered apprentice, not surprised at her outburst. Fann tended to react negatively to overly close scrutiny, a trait Amanda had been working to train out of her.

Cassandra shook her head and said nothing for several minutes, using the interruption as an excuse to give Fann a much closer look, making her squirm nervously in her seat. "I'm sorry. I just find it amazing."

"What's amazing?" Amanda asked, looking back and forth between the two women, just now realizing that they looked so alike that they could almost have been sisters.

"That you've managed to drag one of the Chosen into your schemes." Cassandra mused. "Though she doesn't seem to be an ordinary Chosen One."

"What?" Amanda said, staring at Cassandra before taking a slow, deep breath, hoping Fann hadn't noticed the panicked expression she was sure crossed her face at Cassandra's pronouncement.

"Chosen what?" Fann demanded. Cassandra nodded to herself, as if Fann's question answered one of her own.

"You don't know what you are, or what you are capable of, do you..." She said to herself, though loud enough for both Amanda and Fann to understand her. She looked over her steaming cup of tea at Amanda, her eyes sparkling with clear amusement. "You've run into a Vampire Slayer before. Haven't you?" she asked.

"Yes..." Amanda answered her hesitantly before looking at Fann thoughtfully. It certainly explained some of the things she'd wondered about. "I, uh, borrowed something from her Watcher and she eventually managed to take it back. Why do you think Fann is one?"

"There's something very distinctive about her aura," Cassandra said thoughtfully. "I've only seen one like that once before and it belonged to a Chosen One. Though hers does seem to have something else entwined with it, distorting it. Strange."

"What do you know about them?" Amanda asked, sure her voice was giving her away.

"Not a lot. Just that they are very special women warriors who fight evil. Usually vampires and other similarly evil creatures." She thought for a moment before continuing. "I believe they are quite rare, which is probably why Methos is still alive."

"Cassandra..." Amanda began before being interrupted. Cassandra seemed to have a one-track mind when it came to certain other immortals.

"Yes. I know you don't want to hear about that again," Cassandra raised a hand in silent command. "It can wait. We apparently have more important things than revenge to deal with right now."

"Yes. This isn't what I expected," Amanda told her. "If Fann is a Chosen One, why didn't she know it?"

"Still here!" Fann sputtered in protest at being ignored when the topic of discussion was apparently herself.

"Yes, but should you be?" Amanda asked herself under her breath. Under the combined weight of looks from both Fann and Cassandra she explained her comment. "A Vampire Slayer...which Cassandra believes you to be..." she nodded at Fann, "is a young woman who works for an organization called the 'Council of Watchers'. Each one has a guardian of some kind called a watcher who assists them."

"A watcher?" Cassandra looked at her in surprise at the information. "Like immortal watchers?"

"No. As far as I could find out when I discovered them they are unrelated. The name is just a coincidence. Their watchers aren't the voyeurs ours are." Amanda took a sip from her cup before continuing with a small grin. "I was able to trick this Council into thinking we're more powerful than we really are. For people who fight evil they can be awfully gullible," Amanda laughed at the memory of her last encounter with a slayer.

"What happened?" Cassandra asked.

"After my encounter with them back in the thirties... they agreed that interfering with immortals wasn't a good idea," Amanda told her, showing her most innocent expression to hide her amusement.

"Good." Cassandra nodded at Amanda with approval. "Some day you'll have to tell me how you did that."

"What does this mean for me?" Fann asked. "Am I supposed to go find these watchers?"

"I don't see why you should," Amanda told her. "They're mostly a bunch of stuffy Englishmen. That slayer I met didn't have an original thought in her pretty head. She did whatever her Watcher told her to do. If they haven't come looking for you yet they must have plenty of them."

"So do you know how someone becomes a Chosen One?" Fann asked them.

"Not really," Amanda conceded. "The Watcher I met kept that a secret. If he even knew."

"Oh," Fann frowned down at her cup. "So you don't think it matters if I stay with you? I'm not ready to give up being your apprentice."

"Well, there is that five year contract," Amanda reminded her. "You can't just go running off. You have responsibilities."

"It might matter." Cassandra told them. "If you are truly a Chosen One, you might not have a choice, contract or not."

Fann looked at her in surprise. "Why not?"

Cassandra looked at Amanda for a moment. Amanda just shrugged and nodded for her to continue.

"Some people have a destiny. How they live their life and what they do serves a greater purpose. No matter how hard they try to avoid it. Most Chosen are among them."

"How do I find that out?" Fann asked her faintly.

Amanda resisted the urge to reassure her with a hug. Fann's obvious enjoyment at learning everything she could teach her about her new profession was very flattering but she wasn't going to lock her up if, for some reason, she needed to be elsewhere.

Sighing, she looked pointedly at Cassandra, "She does a reading for you." she told Fann.

"A reading?" Fann asked, looking slightly confused.

"Tea leaves and tarot cards," Amanda told her. "She'll read your future and tell us what you need to do or if you really have some sort of destiny."

"Oh. Is it safe?" Fann asked Cassandra. "Don't your prophecies usually predict disasters?"

"No," Cassandra objected. "That is just what mortal history has written about me. I wasn't even there for a lot of the things I'm blamed for. And that isn't what I'll see for you." She glared at Amanda. "If she's truly one of the Chosen she will have a destiny," Cassandra told them. "But it is possible it won't be what you're expecting. Or want. Destiny isn't random."

"What do I have to do," Fann asked faintly.

"You need to come back tomorrow morning," Cassandra told her. "I can't just stand here and read you. I'll need to prepare for something like that."

"We'll see you tomorrow then. Let's go," Amanda told Fann, grabbing her arm and pulling her to her feet, their last view of Cassandra was of her sitting, tea cup in hand, shaking her head in amusement at their abrupt departure.

* * *

"You seemed to be in a big hurry to leave her," Fann grumbled as they drove away from the lake.

"It's better that way. If we'd stayed too long she would have tried to get us to promise her something, like going after Adam for her," Amanda told her.

"Who's Adam?" Fann asked.

"One of her oldest enemies," She shrugged. "He isn't actually that bad. He can be annoying if he's bored but he's no longer the evil person he was when they first met."

Fann looked at her, "So what's the problem?"

"She doesn't believe anyone when they tell her he's changed. So she refuses to forgive him." She shook her head. "There are some things that are hard to forget, even among us. Once in a while she'll convince herself that he has gone back to his old ways and try to kill him."

"And he's still alive?" Fann asked in amazement, thinking about all of the tales she'd heard from Amanda over the past few months about immortal vendettas.

"So far. He's been lucky," Amanda said, laughing. "He's very good at surviving. You'll probably meet him eventually. He's a friend of Mac's."

"And this Mac protects him?" Fann asked.

"When he's not annoyed with him for other things." Amanda smirked. "He's really good at finding the things that annoy people. Age can do that to you." She shook her head negatively at Fann's unspoken request for more information, leaving her to wonder what she was missing.

* * *

They returned to the island early the next morning. Amanda had grumbled good-naturedly about the atmosphere of the diner that was their only choice for a non-fast food meal but Fann had just ignored her and had eaten with her usual wolfish hunger. She'd gotten used to the way Amanda tended to complain if something didn't meet her almost snobbish standards. She'd known her long enough to realize it was just part of the image Amanda liked to portray. When necessary, even when it didn't involve a job, Amanda could be brutally practical.

Fann reluctantly joined Amanda in the small boat. She suppressed a shudder in the damp air as she stared across the mist covered lake, more nervous than she'd been the previous day when she'd first met the seer. The slight rocking motion did nothing to calm her nerves.

"Let's go back!" she mumbled as the side of the boat scraped against the island's small dock.

Amanda looked at her with an inscrutable expression on her face. "Why?"

"Let's just forget the whole thing," Fann told her, unsuccessfully trying to keep a slight whine out of her voice. "I don't really need to know this destiny stuff. Being your apprentice is enough for me."

"She said she would help you," she told Fann coldly. "And she's not the only one here who'll be angry if we leave now."

Fann cringed at her tone. Amanda very rarely got angry with her. "What if she predicts something bad?"

"Then we deal with it," Amanda answered in a more normal voice. Once she'd climbed out of the boat she turned back to Fann, "What is the real problem?"

"I'm too young to have a destiny!" Fann protested. "I like the things we've been doing and want to keep doing them."

"Let's see what she has to say before we make any decisions," Amanda told her. "She didn't say you have a destiny but that you might. Wouldn't you rather find it out now so you can prepare for it?"

"But what if it means I have to do this slayer thing?" Fann grumbled. "I bet slayers don't get to do the things you're teaching me. They're probably too good for that kind of fun."

"Don't worry, you're probably too corrupted now to be one." Amanda reached over and attempted to pull her long braid. Laughing, Fann dodging out of the way before she could succeed. "Ready to find out your destiny?"

"No!" Fann pouted, feeling slightly childish. "Okay, let's get this over with."

"We should probably get going then," Amanda said with a nod. "Wouldn't want to keep the witch waiting. A cranky witch is a dangerous witch."

Wide-eyed and still feeling childish, Fann hurried up the path behind her. The door swung open before they could knock. A tangy smelling fog flowed out, engulfing them.

Fann stared nervously into the cabin. It seemed like a completely different place than it had been the day before. There was something about the cabin that was sending chills up and down her spine. Even with her enhanced vision she couldn't see through the fog. Before she could obey her impulse to turn around and head back to the boat, Amanda sneezed, breaking the mood and causing Fann to giggle in nervous reaction.

"Damn it, Cassandra!" Amanda yelled into the cabin. "Save the hocus pocus for the tourists!" She sneezed again, and grabbing Fann by the arm, stormed into the cabin. As soon as they'd both crossed the threshold the fog dissipated, leaving them standing in the middle of the room. Fann noticed the strange feeling she'd been getting from the fog was also gone.

Coming into the room, Cassandra winked at Fann before addressing Amanda. "You don't like it? I did it just for you. I do have an image to uphold after all."

Amanda sneezed again. "Can we just get on with it? You know that stuff makes me sneeze," she grumbled.

"Fine!" Cassandra pouted. "Take away my fun."

"Fun?" Fann stared at her. "What was fun about that?"

Cassandra shrugged. "There's almost no fun reading someone. I'll take what little I can get. Let's take this into the sun-room." She grabbed Fann by the elbow and guided her towards a door on the other side of the room. Amanda followed in their wake, occasionally sneezing. Fann looked around the large room, taking in the glass walls and room, before her gaze landed on a short table in the middle of the room surrounded by large cushions.

"How does this work?" She asked as she settled onto the cushion Cassandra directed her to, removing her shoes and tucking in her feet.

Amanda shorted in amusement. "She's already started."

"Huh? How" Fann ungracefully asked.

"As soon as she touched you," Amanda told her.

Cassandra glared at Amanda. "Do I give away all of your professional secrets?"

"You don't have to," Amanda told her with a smirk. "I'm teaching them to her myself. She's a natural."

"All of them?" Cassandra looked back and forth between Fann and Amanda in apparent amazement. "You're really serious about this apprenticeship?"

"Yes," Amanda told her. Fann wondered what she was missing but decided to wait until later to ask her about it.

"That changes things a little." Fann heard Cassandra mutter under her breath.

Before she could ask her what she meant, Cassandra gave Fann a look and murmured "Hush." Fann shifted nervously on her cushion while Cassandra silently watched both of them for several minutes.

"You wanted to know what was going to happen?" At Fann's nod she continued. "Reading someone to find out their destiny isn't really that complex. But it's an ability very few people have. After seeing your aura yesterday, I was able to do a basic reading. But all it did was confirm what we already know, that you are one of the Chosen."

"Oh." Fann sighed. With some of the tension she'd been feeling leaving her, she asked the question she really dreaded being answered. "But what about my destiny?"

"Ah. That requires more work. I rarely do that kind of reading."

"Why?"

"It requires physical contact." Cassandra visibly shuddered. "Not a pleasant sensation. The auras of mortals are very noisy."

"How were you able to touch me then?" Fann asked curiously, wondering why Cassandra had reacted so strongly.

"I spent the evening preparing for it," Cassandra looked at her. "Though it appears I didn't need to. Your aura seems to have a shield of some sort around it."

"Were you still able to see anything?" Amanda asked.

"Yes."

Fann watched as Cassandra placed a tarot deck on the table and started to shuffle it. "Are those cards going to tell you what my destiny is?"

"No," Cassandra told them with a small smile. She started to lay out the cards in front of herself in a complex pattern. "They're just a tool that I use to help organize what I've already read from you in my mind so I can explain it."

Fann watched in fascination for several minutes before she was distracted by a laugh from Amanda.

"You should see the confused expression fortune tellers get if they see the way she uses the cards," Amanda told her.

"Where'd you learn this card thing?" Fann asked Cassandra as she continued to shuffle and lay out cards.

"There's an old coven in England that uses the cards this way," Amanda answered for her.

"A coven? For real witches?"

"Not exactly," Cassandra answered shortly, finally putting down the cards and looking at her with an expression that discouraged further questions. "They prefer to be called Wiccans. They're Goddess worshippers. Witches, real witches, are something else."

"Okay..." Fann shifted nervously. "What happens now?"

"Now we discuss your destiny," Cassandra told her. She sat silently for several minutes as if waiting for something from Fann.

"And...?" Amanda prodded.

"She needs to want to know," Cassandra told her. "I won't tell her otherwise."

"Whatever you can tell me would be great," Fann told her. "I would rather know than not."

Cassandra sighed and got up from the table. "Tea?" she asked.

"Sure," Fann said, frowning at Amanda in confusion as Cassandra left the room.

"The whole fortune telling experience," Amanda pronounced loftily. "Tea leaves and tarot cards, just like I told you."

Returning to the room with the mugs of tea, Cassandra handed one to each of them before sitting down with her own. She waited until they had taken a sip of tea before continuing. "Last night I called an old friend who knows something about the Chosen One and slayers."

"Oh?" Amanda murmured in encouragement.

"Apparently, most slayers die very young. Their destiny is to fight the forces of darkness and help maintain the equilibrium between good and evil, often at the cost of their lives." She reached over and squeezed Fann's arm in a comforting manner when she saw her distressed expression. "But I sensed a long life ahead of you. It made no sense. Until now."

"What did you discover?" Fann asked faintly.

"Think of your destiny like a web of possibilities. It guides you along your chosen path." She stared into her cup. "All people have some path their lives follow but few have a true destiny. A destiny that can influence others. And they usually only have one. You seem to have two."

"Two destinies?" Fann asked, hoping this confusing explanation would make sense later.

"Yes. You have the destiny of a slayer. And something else."

"What does that mean?" Fann asked.

"If you went to the Council of Watchers and worked for them as a slayer, you would have the short, violent life of one." She shook her head. "And since you aren't immortal or likely to ever be..."

"Why are you so sure about that?" Fann asked curiously. "When we first met Amanda said that she wasn't allowed to tell me even if I were going to become immortal. Couldn't you be lying?"

"According to my friend, what makes us immortal is not compatible with the ancient energy that makes you a slayer. The life forces aren't compatible," Cassandra said. "Just be glad. Immortality has its' drawbacks."

"Like what?" Fann looked at Amanda briefly for an answer but she was staring at something far away.

"Amanda can tell you later," Cassandra said. "Just believe me when I say that you would not enjoy being an immortal slayer."

"So, this other destiny?" Fann asked. "How does being a slayer affect that?"

"It's very unclear," Cassandra said with a sigh. "The two destinies are intertwined. Even if you don't pursue the life of a slayer, you are still a Chosen One and have a part to play in the conflict between good and evil. But I'm finding it difficult reading anything beyond that."

"Why?" Amanda asked, once more paying attention to the conversation.

"Some people are easy to read. Mortals have a simple life, no matter how complex they might perceive it. Immortals also have simple lives. Their stories all lead in one direction. If Fann were just a slayer... her future would be very clear."

"What do you mean?" Fann asked nervously.

"If you were just a slayer, you would already be dead," Cassandra told her sadly.

"How?" Amanda asked, surprised.

"Slayers attract danger to themselves. She hasn't had any training in the arts of the Chosen and the mystical skills slayers are endowed with require honing."

"I can take care of myself!" Fann protested.

"Against humans? Yes." Cassandra appraised her barely restrained form. "Against vampires and other creatures of the night? No."

"It doesn't matter now," Amanda told Fann in a voice she found very soothing. "We're visiting MacLeod so he can train you."

Cassandra looked at them. "Good. You will need it."

They quietly drank their tea for a few minutes while Fann processed what she'd been told so far. "What did you mean? That my destiny wasn't clear?"

"It's tied in with your Sidhe heritage," Cassandra said. "It blurs the things I can see."

"My what?" Fann choked out over a mouthful of tea.

"Her what?" Amanda spouted.

Cassandra looked at both of them before shaking her head. "I suppose I shouldn't be too surprised."

"Who are the Sidhe?" Fann asked.

"A myth," Amanda told her firmly.

"Not a myth," Cassandra corrected. "I haven't seen someone with so much Sidhe blood as you appear to have in over five hundred years but they did exist. I'm not aware of where they originally came from but there was definitely something special about them. They lived for a long time. They can be found in many Irish legends. Some say they could travel between worlds. Other legends say they went back to where-ever they came from."

"How can you tell I have some of this Sidhe in me?" Fann asked. "And what does it mean?"

"It's clearly there to anyone who has the skill to look past the effect being a slayer has on your aura." She reached over and grabbed one of Fann's hands. "The magical signature of the Sidhe is very distinct. The more Sidhe blood you have, the stronger it is. But the combination of the two..." She nodded to herself. "That explains it."

"What does it explain!" Fann asked impatiently, before looking sheepishly at Amanda, who now seemed absorbed in everything Cassandra was telling them.

"My friend said that this Council is able to detect slayers. But she claimed that there is rarely more than one at a time and they are all currently accounted for. You must be at least a quarter Sidhe to be shielded from their spells. And from the demons."

"From the demons?" Fann squeaked.

"Yes. Demons, vampires, and other evil creatures are supposedly attracted to slayers."

"I've never seen anything like that," Fann told them.

"Exactly!" Cassandra pronounced. "You probably weren't supposed to become a slayer." She shrugged. "The kind of elemental magic used to originally create the Chosen One often seems to have a mind of its own. It's very dangerous to tamper with it. Something must have gone very wrong when the last Chosen One died for you to become a slayer."

"So what do I do?" Fann asked. "What about my destiny?"

"Enjoy your freedom. Your long life. It probably won't be as long as a pure Sidhe but it'll certainly be much longer than that of an ordinary mortal. Learn to defend yourself against the evil that will eventually be attracted to you." She shrugged elegantly before taking a sip from her cup. "Your destiny will take care of itself. If you're happy it must lie in the direction you are already traveling. Learn everything Amanda can teach you. You have plenty of time."

"Damn," Amanda grumbled. "I should have taken their advice."

Fann looked at her in surprise, having almost forgotten her presence. "What?"

"I should have gotten you to sign that ten year apprenticeship..." She winked at Fann who laughed while Cassandra looked on in amusement.

* * *

**Note: **The Sidhe mentioned in this story are the Sidhe of Irish legend, reinterpreted for this story. They are not the Sidhe/elves of modern fantasy literature. Not a pointy ear anywhere. Sorry.


	8. Death and the Boyscout

**Disclaimer:** See previous chapters.  
**Revision Posted:** 18-Jul-2009

* * *

**Chapter Title:** _Death and the Boyscout_

It was a damp evening in Seacover, just past early summer. Joe was puttering around on the small stage, playing softly to himself, his attention more on the two immortals drinking quietly in the corner than the rest of the bar's patrons. It had looked like they wouldn't get much business with this weather, just the regulars he could handle himself, so he'd sent his staff home early.

Just as he was about to put down his guitar and join his friends the door opened and a blast of damp air blew in, followed by a tall slim figure wearing a dark, heavy leather jacket and a motorcycle helmet.

Seeing Mac stiffen Joe quickly looked at Adam, relaxing slightly when the older immortal remained calm. He'd gotten fairly adept over the years at detecting when his friends sensed the appearance of another immortal. From Adam's non-reaction this was obviously not one. Looking back at the figure as they turned and closed the door, Joe came to the conclusion that Mac must have reacted to the way this person was dressed. He sighed and wondered if Mac would ever really get over Richie's death.

Apparently oblivious that they were the center of attention, the person unzipped their jacket and taking off the helmet, shook their head, revealing the person to be a young woman with long raven hair, most of it in an intricate french braid. The other patrons tried to watch without seeming to stare as she sauntered over to the bar and perched herself on one of the stools. There was something about the way she moved that made it hard for them to avoid looking at her.

Joe gently put down his guitar and walked over behind the bar, stopping when he reached the woman. Looking at her closer he revised his estimate of her age. From a distance she looked like she was in her mid twenties but up close he could see that, unless she was an immortal, she was almost certainly too young to be in his bar by herself. "Can I help you?"

"Something hot would be nice," she told him in a silky, musical voice.

"Coffee, tea, or cocoa?" Joe asked. At her quirked eyebrow he added gruffly, "Anything stronger kid and you'll have to show me some id."

"Tea will be fine, if you have something without caffeine," she said, without directly confirming his suspicions about her age.

"Coming right up." He turned away and, going to the corner where he kept such things, grabbed a large mug, filling it with hot water. He placed it and a selection of herbal tea packets in front of her on the bar. "Was there anything else you needed?" he asked as he watched her go through the tea bags before selecting one.

"No, I'm all set. I'm just waiting for a friend," She gave him a small warm smile. "Thanks."

Joe left her absorbed in her tea and headed over to the table where Mac and Adam were sitting.

"Joe, not your normal kind of customer?" Mac asked him. Adam just snorted under his breath. "Isn't she a bit young to come in here?"

"Possibly," he admitted. "She says she's waiting for someone."

"Really?" Adam muttered. "I wonder who the unlucky person is."

"Certainly not you, Old Man," Mac responded giving him a look at the 'unlucky' comment. "She looks too innocent to even know you."

"I think she can take care of herself, MacLeod," Adam retorted. "I don't think she needs you to defend her."

Joe looked at him in amazement. "How can you tell that? She's just a kid."

"There's something about her. I'm sure I've seen someone like her before." Adam shook his head. "She may look young but she's dangerous. Whatever she is, she doesn't need anyone's help." After that pronouncement he turned back to his drink and refused to speculate any further.

* * *

Sitting at the bar, Fann managed to keep her amusement from appearing on her face while sipping her tea. With her enhanced hearing she'd overheard the conversation that the bartender, Joe, had been having with the other two men. From what she'd heard them say, she assumed that this Joe was Amanda's acquaintance Joe Dawson and the other two men were Duncan Macleod and Adam Pierson.

Although she was curious about the things the one she assumed was Adam had said about her, she was in no hurry to introduce herself to them. That would ruin her chances for completing the tasks Amanda had set for her in Seacover. It made more sense to wait for her arrival in Seacover in another week. She'd just been very curious about the place and thought she'd check it out before heading to her hotel, instead of waiting for the next day like she'd originally discussed with Amanda.

Taking one last sip from her mug, Fann reached into a pocket for change, and dropping it on the bar left just enough of a tip that she wouldn't draw attention to herself, as Amanda had drilled into her over and over again. There were times and places to draw attention to oneself but this wasn't one of them. Picking up her helmet and jacket, she took one last look around before heading towards the door and her hotel.

* * *

She'd been hanging out at Joe's in the evenings for a week, taking careful note of everyone and everything as unobtrusively as possible, her only notes the ones she kept in her head. Fann noticed that after the third night she'd begun to blend in with the locals. Just like Amanda had claimed would happen. Sitting at the bar with a mug of steaming tea no one seemed to pay any attention to her presence.

During the day she'd been exploring Seacover on foot, getting a feel for where everything was located and comparing the image she was building in her mind with the map Amanda had given her. Amanda had been drilling her for weeks on how to remember the smallest detail about places she visited. Not possessing the immortal's almost photographic memory, Fann had initially found the process to be a challenge but she'd finally mastered the technique.

Now she just had to complete the tasks Amanda had set for her in Seacover. In retrospect, the tests Amanda had set for her in Chicago earlier in the month had been interesting, but too easy. Seacover required a more refined touch given the personalities she was expected to navigate around. Ready to show Amanda that she'd mastered more than just the basics of her new profession, Fann was looking forward to learning the much more complex things she would need to know to help her with her next big job. But she wouldn't have a chance to do that if she couldn't prove to Amanda that she was ready for it.

The night she expected Amanda to appear she'd picked a spot at the bar that gave her a good view of the door and the rest of the bar without appearing to be too obvious about it. It was the perfect spot for people watching, one of the things Amanda was teaching her that Fann found to be very fascinating. There was just something about it that had brought out a voyeuristic tendency she hadn't known she had. Amanda had laughed at her when she'd found it out; calling her something in French that with her limited knowledge she hadn't understood. With enough practice she'd begun to pick up subtle clues that told her a lot about the other patrons of Joe's bar.

It was during that part of the evening when the number of patrons had dwindled down to just a few regulars that Fann noticed Duncan and Adam momentarily stiffening in their seats and attempt to surreptitiously look towards the door; only relaxing once Amanda finally made her appearance in Seacover. Her only acknowledgment of Fann's presence in the bar was a subtle nod of her head before heading over to the corner table where the other two immortals were seated. With a faint shrug and smug smile, Fann went back to sipping her third mug of tea while keeping her attention on the table where Amanda now sat.

* * *

Noticing her sitting down with Adam and Duncan as he returned to the front of the bar from his office, Joe smiled and headed towards the table where the three immortals were now seated. "Amanda! What brings you to Seacover?" he asked her.

"I need a reason to visit old friends?" Amanda asked him with a twinkle in her eye.

"You?" Adam laughed quietly before taking a gulp from his glass. "The only time you show up is when you want something from Mac."

"That's not true." She protested looking at the three men with a pout, before leaning back in her chair with an exaggerated motion.

MacLeod raised his hands in surrender while Adam just laughed at her again. Joe shook his head at their antics.

"What's new?" Amanda asked in an obvious attempt to distract them from herself.

"Nothing," Adam muttered, having once more settled into his seat, focused solely on his beer.

"She is," MacLeod announced, motioning towards the young woman who'd seemed to have taken up residence in the bar in the last week.

"Isn't she a bit young for you Mac?" Amanda asked with a knowing grin, shaking her head at her friend. "Or have you decided she needs to be rescued from something?"

MacLeod shrugged helplessly. His friends were well aware of his tendency to take in strays and teased him about it whenever they could. "No. But why is she here? She comes here every day but she isn't old enough to drink."

At Amanda's raised eyebrow Joe jumped in. "We don't actually know that for sure Mac. She hasn't ordered anything alcoholic so I haven't had a reason to ask to see her id yet."

"Did anyone think of asking her why she's here?" Amanda asked. "Or are you all afraid of her?" At their blank looks at the taunt she shook her head. "Why don't we take care of this right now?" She turned in her seat and motioned to the young woman at the bar in an obvious summoning gesture.

"What are you doing!" Adam protested.

"Getting you answers to your questions so the poor girl doesn't have to deal with you staring at her." Amanda grinned at him playfully. "What do you think I'm doing?"

Before they could respond to her comments, the slim young woman had approached their table. Giving Amanda a hug, she slid gracefully into the remaining empty seat at their table, Joe taking her actions in stride in his usual manner while the other two immortals stared at both her and Amanda in shock. She grinned and winked at them before turning to Amanda and telling her with a smirk "Amanda, that was mean! You could have given one of them a heart attack."

"You know her?" MacLeod asked in surprise while Joe nodded as if something suddenly made sense. Adam merely frowned in concentration for a moment before once more relaxing and staring at her thoughtfully.

Amanda ignored the question and spoke to the young woman. "Fann, these gentlemen are Duncan MacLeod, Joe Dawson, and on the days he feels younger than normal - Adam Pierson."

Fann nodded at each of them as they were introduced, giving Adam a wink when Amanda introduced him.

"I see they were wrong when they said you'd taken on a new student," Joe said quietly so that only the others at the table could hear him.

"No, they weren't wrong," Amanda denied. "Well, mostly anyway. Fann's my new apprentice." she told them.

"Apprentice?" Macleod gave Fann a concerned look. "Isn't she a bit young to be involved in one of your schemes?"

"Is there anyone who's old enough?" Adam grimaced before subsiding and taking another gulp.

Fann shook her head at them. "I know what I'm getting into. We understand each other perfectly." She grinned at Macleod who was rubbing his head as if he was fighting off a headache. "Besides, it's fun!"

"Not another one!" Adam muttered under his breath, though everyone heard him.

"She's a natural," Amanda told them. "And it isn't like it is going to hurt her."

Joe looked intrigued while Macleod just groaned. "How long are you in town for?"

"Fann?" Amanda directed his question to her apprentice. "How much longer do you think you'll need?"

"Whenever you're ready." Fann told her confidently. "It was an interesting exercise though easier than I expected." She leaned forward and placed several objects in front of both MacLeod and Adam. "Neither of them seem too concerned about protecting their possessions."

"What is this?" MacLeod asked, fingering the objects in front of him, looking from Amanda to Fann with a confused expression on his face.

"A picture of the safe in your dojo," Fann told him. "And a list of everything that was in it." Ignoring the unspoken question she could see on his face, she turned to Adam, responding to his startled breath.

"How did you find this?" He held up a small dull metal disc.

She shrugged and grinned cheekily at him. "I tried to think like the world's oldest man. After that it was easy."

Joe coughed, trying to hide his amusement.

Sensing an immanent explosion from Adam, Amanda hurriedly continued. "Okay, let's take care of that other business we talked about and then you can go."

"Are you sure about that?" Fann asked her, waving her hand in the direction of MacLeod.

"He can't help himself," she answered, giving MacLeod a dazzling smile. Adam laughed under his breath, forgetting about the invasion of his privacy in anticipation of whatever Amanda had planned for Macleod, who dropped the photo and sat up nervously.

"What do you need Amanda?" He asked her defensively. "I don't have time for one of your schemes."

"You'll have plenty of time for this," she said, grinning at him. "Fann needs to learn everything you can teach her about self-defense."

"She's not..." he said, reluctant to say more.

"No, I'm not." Fann answered, surprising everyone except Amanda. "And I think I can take care of myself." Amanda shook her head at the younger woman. "But Amanda and Cassandra don't agree with me." She childishly pouted at her.

"You're good, for someone who hasn't had any training," Amanda admitted. "But you need to be better, especially if Cassandra is correct about your future."

"She's seen Cassandra?" Joe asked curiously.

"She read my future. Sort of," Fann told him with a shrug, her fingers playing with the ends of her hair. "She was curious."

"What did she say?" MacLeod asked looking at the younger woman, obviously intrigued in spite of Amanda's request.

"It was about her destiny and none of your business, Mac," Amanda scolded him. "The only thing you need to know is that she needs to spend as much time in Seacover as possible, learning everything you can teach her about defending herself."

"I don't just take on random students," he protested.

"If I'm here with you I won't be out on jobs with Amanda," Fann told him, surreptitiously winking at Amanda when she said it. "Just think of it as your good deed for the year." She smiled, giving him the wide-eyed innocent look she'd practiced with Amanda.

"I won't promise anything," Macleod grumbled. "Come by the dojo tomorrow and we'll see what happens."

"Thanks!" Fann jumped up excitedly and gave the embarrassed immortal a hug. Turning to Amanda she said "All set?"

"Why don't you head back to the hotel?" Amanda suggested. "I'll be in later."

"Okay." Fann smirked at Amanda who just grinned back. "Later." She turned to MacLeod and asked "When tomorrow?"

"After nine." He told her.

"Thanks!" She flashed him a big smile, waved at the others and grabbed her helmet and coat from the bar on her way out the door.

As soon as Fann was gone MacLeod looked across the table at Amanda. Shaking his head he asked her "What's really going on here? Since when do you take on a non-immortal student?"

"Or any student," Adam added with a smirk.

"I take on the occasional student!" Amanda protested.

"Not if you can avoid it," MacLeod reminded her. "You've always claimed that having a student gets in your way."

"Well..." Amanda looked at Joe for help but he just shook his head and got up from the table to serve one of the other patrons at the bar. "I felt bad. I accidentally ran into her in New Orleans." MacLeod raised an eyebrow. "Literally. With my car. And she just got up like nothing had happened."

"So?" Adam asked, obviously skeptical

"She was knocked into another car hard enough to dent it. She should have ended up in a hospital." Amanda looked at them. "There was something different about her. I just had to help. She reminds me of someone who'd rescued me from a rather painful death several centuries ago."

"She's not immortal," Adam reminded them. "And she's not ever going to be."

"No," Amanda agreed. "But if Cassandra's reading is accurate she needs to learn how to protect herself."

"Why us?" Duncan asked. "Doesn't she have any family?"

"I can't really tell you why. It was a feeling I had. And Cassandra agreed with me." Amanda grabbed MacLeod's arm and played her last card, intent on cementing MacLeod's help. "She's an orphan, Mac. If I hadn't taken her in who knows what would have happened to her."

"What did Cassandra have to say about her?" Adam asked curiously.

She frowned. "It's better if no one knows. It has nothing to do with the Game." She told them when he tried to protest.

"She won't break. She's much stronger and faster than she looks. But she has no idea how to defend herself against someone who knows how to fight." She gave MacLeod a pleading look, although she knew she'd already hooked him. "She learns quickly. Just give her a chance this summer. That's all she should need."

MacLeod looked at her for several minutes before nodding. "Okay. I'll give her a month and then we'll see."

"Thanks." She gave him a bright smile. "You won't regret it."

"I just hope the rest of us won't," Adam muttered under his breath, earning him a disapproving look from the others. Ignoring them he took a long sip from his beer and continued muttering to himself in a language none of the others were familiar with.

* * *

**Notes:**

* Does Amanda explain/tell them about Fann's past/future? Not really. It's really none of their business.


	9. The Ethics of Immortals

**Disclaimer:** See previous chapters.  
**Revision Posted:** 18-Jul-2009

* * *

**Chapter Title:** _The Ethics of Immortals_

"Duncan?" Fann asked quietly one morning as she watched him obsessively cleaning his favorite katana, several weeks after she'd started training with him.

He gently put the katana down on the workbench in his office and put away his cleaning tools before answering her. "Yes?"

"You've made it clear that you don't approve of Amanda training me as her apprentice." She paused but he didn't deny it, merely nodding his head in agreement. "Why are you still willing to help train me?" she asked curiously.

He looked at her for a moment longer before he spoke. She suppressed an involuntary shiver at the intensity of his gaze. If she didn't know better, she would have thought he had Cassandra's ability to measure a person's soul. "No, I don't agree with her decision to involve you in her schemes," he said. "But that isn't your fault. I'll do what I can to help you survive them until you are old enough to realize there are better things you could do with your life."

"And?" she prompted, thinking his answer seemed a little too good to be true.

"I think you need protection from her greediness. This," he said as he waved towards the training floor, "is as good a start as any."

"Greediness?" Fann frowned at what she was sure was misguided interference in her life. She'd known from almost the beginning that Amanda wasn't being the least bit altruistic when she'd offered Fann the opportunity to learn her trade. Training an apprentice was a lot of work for her and she expected to gain from their association. Greediness certainly wasn't a word Fann would have used to describe it. It was a business decision, of a sort.

"Yes." Standing up, he directed her out of his office and handed her one of the practice swords. "She decided that you needed her assistance and took it as an opportunity to pay off an old debt and get cheap help, all at the same time." He frowned distastefully.

"What's wrong with that?" Fann asked as she automatically took a position out in the middle of the floor. "She was clear from the beginning that she benefits from our relationship. Besides, I'm the one who agreed to become her apprentice. If I hadn't reminded her of that person she owed that debt to I don't think she would have even considered the idea. And Cassandra helped convince her," she added absently, as she mirrored his movements as they began warming up.

"You aren't old enough to decide for yourself something like that," He protested. She wondered if she'd imagined his surprise at Cassandra's involvement.

"You forget I'm not immortal. And I'm not foolish," Fann said. "I've had to grow up very quickly. I know exactly what being her apprentice means and what she expects from me."

"She should know better," he said, motioning for her to attack, effectively ending their discussion.

* * *

"Duncan?" Fann murmured as they moved together, slowly cooling off from their session, idly wondering why their movements seemed so synchronized.

"Yes?" he said.

"I've been talking with Joe and Adam." He raised an eyebrow at her. "What makes you so different from someone like Adam or Amanda?"

"What do you mean?" He frowned at her.

"Adam seems to be happy the way he is, just watching the world go by. Amanda isn't happy unless she can be out there somewhere, having fun." She waved a hand vaguely towards the door. "But you seem to spend a lot of time involved in the lives of us mortals..."

He looked at her thoughtfully for a moment before answering. "Everyone is controlled in some way by their past. Their worlds were very different when they first became immortal."

"What do you mean?" Fann asked.

"Adam comes from a time when only the strong did well, and you became strong at the expense of others. By forcing everyone else to be less than you are."

"Isn't the world still like that?" Fann asked, trying to keep the cynical tone from her voice. She'd seen enough since running away to not have much faith in the benevolence of the rich and powerful.

He grimaced as if tasting something sour. "Yes, but the rules are different now. The powerful rule in more subtle, less personal ways. Adam outgrew the old ways but hasn't found a way to completely fit in with the way the world works now. So he just watches. The rest of us, mortal or immortal are just characters on a stage. He feels safer that way. More in control."

"That's kind of sad," Fann mused, chewing on her lower lip. "It also must be kind of boring." She grabbed a water bottle from the nearby bench. "What about Amanda?" She watched in amusement as his eyes lit up. Even when he was angry or frustrated with her, which seemed to be most of the time, Amanda had a special place in his heart.

"Survival." He looked at her. "It wasn't a place where there were many options for her. She was rescued by Rebecca but by then she was set in her ways. Bad habits are hard to break, especially for immortals. It has become a game for her. She lives for the excitement of outwitting people who make rules she doesn't think should apply to her. But you don't need to follow in her footsteps. The world isn't like that anymore."

"You make them sound arrogant," Fann said, watching him closely, ignoring his not so subtle comment.

"The older an immortal gets, the more arrogant they can become," He told her. "It is hard to see that laws and codes of conduct should apply to us even more than to mortals when all we have to do is outlive the ones who make the laws."

"And you?" Fann asked. "What makes you tick? Why aren't you like them?"

"I am the son of a clan chieftain," he told her, striking an exaggerated pose in the middle of the training room. "It is in my nature to help those in need."

Fann blew a raspberry at him in response. "Uh huh..." She giggled when she saw him wink.

"I am younger than they are. The world was already changing for the better when I became immortal," he told her, his expression now serious. "Too many immortals have given up. They see no benefit to being an active part of the mortal world. But if I can teach the things I have learned about life to mortals the world will surely become better. Helping even one person to live up to their potential makes it worthwhile."

"You really are like a Boy Scout, aren't you?" Fann said, not expecting an answer.

"No," he disagreed. "I have faults like everyone else. I've been drawn into a number of Amanda's schemes over the years. I make mistakes, misjudge people. It would certainly be arrogant to think myself perfect. But if I didn't even try to help people? I will have betrayed those who made me who I am."

"Even Amanda?" she asked, trailing him into his office.

"Even her," he said, nodding at her surprise. "Everyone has something to teach, if we are willing to learn. I may not like where she is leading you... but I cannot fault her for trying to help you, no matter what her schemes may be."

* * *

She arrived at the dojo earlier than normal the next morning. Duncan was always amazing to watch she thought as she secretly observed him fencing with Adam. She knew that she'd surprised him with how quickly she'd learned but she wondered if she would ever live long enough to be more than a pale shadow of his grace with a sword.

Or even as proficient as Adam, who seemed to be able to demolish the defenses of everyone he fought. Almost as if he'd invented most of the moves she and others used. Not that he seemed to be in any hurry to teach her anything he knew.

"Adam?" She said once they'd stopped, hoping to catch his attention. She'd noticed that he tended to ignore her except when absolutely necessary.

"Yes?" He said, giving her a considering look.

"Why won't you train with me?"

"I see no point," he told her. "I don't have a death wish."

"Death wish?" she said, puzzled.

"I'm sure that Cassandra has convinced you that I'm evil. And I have no desire to risk my health against one of the Chosen."

She stared at him in astonishment. "Why would I think you're evil?"

"She's seen your bar tab, Old Man?" Duncan said, joining them.

"Funny, MacLeod," Adam growled at him.

"Why do you think she's one of these Chosen people?"

"It took me a while, but it finally came to me where I'd seen someone like you before," Adam said to her before turning back to MacLeod. "Rumor has it that they are mystical warriors. They and their mentor show up, prevent something evil from happening, and leave, if they are still alive."

"So you've fought them?" Fann asked curiously. Most of his past was a mystery to her. Amanda had felt she didn't need to know more than that at one point he'd been a member of a group of immortals who'd come to be feared in a large part of the ancient world.

"No," Adam said, shaking his head. "We never attracted their attention. We might have been dangerous but we were human and they had bigger things to fight back then."

"So how do you know she's one of them?" MacLeod said. Fann could feel him looking at her intently.

"I've had several other occasions to watch one of them in action. Even though she doesn't fight the way they did, she has the distinctive attitude of one. And unlike you MacLeod, they don't just think they are doing the right thing. They know they are doing the right thing."

"I'm not one of those Chosen," Fann told them firmly. "Cassandra says they die young. And I don't have a death wish either." Nodding to them both, she headed to the dojo's locker-room to prepare for her training session.

"Why is she here if she's one of these warriors?" she could hear Duncan ask Adam.

"Does it matter?" she heard him reply. "You don't have to worry about her. I don't think Amanda could corrupt her if she tried. Just make sure she's as well trained as you can make her before she leaves."

Smiling to herself, Fann finished changing. Coming from Adam, whose picture belonged next to cynic in the dictionary, that was something even MacLeod wouldn't ignore.


	10. London Calling

**Additional Disclaimer:** All things HP belong to J.K. Rowling.  
**Spoilers:** All seasons of BtVS and Highlander. No HP spoilers - I think.  
**Revision Posted:** 18-Jul-2009

* * *

**Chapter Title:** _London Calling_

From her window seat in the small chip shop, Fann stared down the street at the large building. Partially obscured by the drizzling rain, it seemed to loom over the buildings that surrounded it.

They'd been in London for a week, Amanda showing her around while they waited to hear from a contact about a possible job somewhere in England or Scotland. So far all she'd seen were a large number of museums, antique dealers, and mansions. They'd done the same thing in Madrid the month before, and Paris before that. In addition to getting her used to international traveling, and working on her fluency in a number of languages, Amanda seemed intent on Fann gaining first hand knowledge of several cities in Europe she considered ripe for the picking.

Blowing the steam off the top of her mug, Fann sighed and took a sip. While she was enjoying the time she spent with Amanda, she wondered when she would be considered good enough to tackle more complex jobs. She had been involved in the planning for many of the bigger jobs Amanda had pulled off since Fann had become her apprentice but so far she'd only allowed Fann to be directly involved in the small jobs they could do together.

Fann knew that the immortal thief didn't feel the same sense of urgency that she did. To Amanda it would always be a game she had plenty of time to play. Fann, on the other hand, felt the urge to do something, anything. And now she was just sitting, watching a large building and trying to see if anything obvious happened while Amanda walked around it.

"So, what did you notice?" Amanda asked, gracefully slipping into the seat across from Fann, blocking her view of the street.

"Nothing happened," Fann said. She frowned before adding, "You walked around the building. People walked in. People walked out. Kind of boring."

"Good," Amanda said, giving her a faint smile. "I haven't been by there in years. They don't seem to have done anything special since then."

"What do you mean?" Fann asked, confused at Amanda's comment. She hadn't explained why they were checking out this particular building.

"I wanted to see if they'd notice an immortal nearby," She said quietly, keeping her voice low even though they currently had the shop to themselves. "If they did, it appears they don't care."

"Why would they care?" Fann asked, not bothering to point out the obvious, that just because Amanda didn't notice a reaction to her presence that there wasn't one. "And who are they, exactly?"

"My sources say that is the headquarters for the Council of Watchers."

"The same sources that didn't mention that sonic alarm last month?" Fann asked skeptically. It hadn't bothered Amanda but her own ears had ached for a week afterward.

"No, much better ones," Amanda told her with a wink. "In that building are some of the answers to your questions about your destiny." Lazily taking Fann's cup, she leaned back in her chair. "When you are ready to find out what being chosen could mean you'll find what you want to know in that building."

"So, you think I should just walk up and ask them?" Fann asked her in disbelief. Given how much time Amanda had spent drilling into her the concept that the direct approach could be fatal, it was a little surprising to the younger woman to hear her suggest it.

"Not unless you want to work for them for the rest of an unnaturally short life," Amanda said, shivering dramatically. "Not something I would recommend. Especially after all the time we've spent on your training."

"Then what did you have in mind?" Fann asked, retrieving her cup.

Amanda stared off into space for a minute before focusing on her again and grinning. "I was thinking more of doing a little nocturnal exploring some time."

"When?" Fann asked, looking over Amanda's shoulder at the building with new interest.

"From what I've heard over the years, they have an unusual security system." She reached over again and took Fann's cup, taking a sip from it. "According to rumor, they use some kind of magic to guard the building. Getting past it could be an interesting challenge."

"Magic?" Fann looked at Amanda in disbelief for a moment. "What kind of magic are we talking about? Fairy tale magic or the mind control stuff Cassandra does?"

"I don't know," Amanda admitted. "There are supposed to be several different kinds. Like ice cream."

"Ice cream?" Fann just barely kept her voice from squeaking in surprise.

"Like flavors. Or so I've been told. Most immortals who claim to do magic can only do the 'stuff' that Cassandra can do. And the rest of us usually try to stay away from anything that seems to be magic," Amanda said, shrugging her shoulders. "I've seen stranger things over the years that I can't explain. Things that other people would call magic. Of course, I'm not the one with a mythical ancestor. I bet you could do magic to get us in there."

"I don't know any magic," Fann protested, sighing at her now empty cup. She wasn't about to argue that Cassandra was wrong in her claim that her grandmother was one of the Sidhe, but it was really a moot point. Even if it were true, the Sidhe were supposedly long gone and she had no way of learning any magic from them.

"Not right now," Amanda said in cheerful agreement. "But there's plenty of time to learn."

"When is that?" Fann grumbled. "Unlike you I'm not going to live forever."

"No, but you will live longer than most," Amanda said. "You need to take the long view."

Fann laughed at that bit of advice from the original 'live for today' party girl immortal. "With all of the things you and Duncan have me doing, when will I have time to learn about magic? The only witch I know is Cassandra and she's too busy being mysterious to be interested in teaching me anything useful."

"There are others who call themselves witches," Amanda said, shrugging. "I'm sure we'll eventually run into one who would be interested in teaching you enough magic for a joint venture like that."

"And that?" Fann asked, waving vaguely in the direction of the building across the street.

"I thought it would be useful for you to know where they are," Amanda said.

"Thanks." Fann shoved the information to the back of her mind. She had no interested in this Council but learning magic as a long term goal she could do. She looked at her companion. "So, what's next?"

"We have a meeting with our source in a small pub. The Leaky Cauldron is a twenty minute walk from here," Amanda said, standing up and stretching like a contented cat as she did so.

Rising from her own seat, Fann smiled to herself at the reactions of the mostly male patrons who'd entered the shop while they were talking. She was continually amazed at Amanda's ability to attract attention from the opposite sex even while getting away with robbing them the way she did.

* * *

Walking at a leisurely pace, they arrived at their destination with plenty of time to spare. The pub sat between a second hand bookshop and a ratty looking record store. Fann looked at it dubiously. "Are you sure this is it?" she asked, turning towards Amanda.

"Yes. This is it," Amanda confirmed. "It caters to a very select group of people. Fortunately we shouldn't be here long."

Fann gave her a puzzled look. "What do you mean?"

"You'll see," Amanda told her. "Just act normally and we'll be okay."

Fann raised an eyebrow at her comment. Following her into the pub, Fann shivered at the strange sensation she felt as they crossed the threshold. "What was that?" she asked quietly so only Amanda could hear her.

"It's protected by some kind of magic that keeps out people who don't belong," Amanda said, keeping her own voice low while looking around.

Fann gave her a look. This was the second mention of magic in a day, more than she'd heard since their visit to Cassandra months ago. "One of those flavors?"

"Maybe. I think," Amanda said. "It's also a good place for an immortal to do business if you don't want your watcher following you."

"I thought we lost her days ago?" Fann said, looking around curiously, not seeing their usual shadow. She occasionally wondered what the watchers thought of her presence in Amanda's life but she tried not to dwell on it too much. As Joe had told her when she'd complained about some bumbling watcher in the past, her relationship with Amanda gave her an immortality of sorts of her own in the Watcher chronicles that few mortals would ever have.

"No, I'm sure she's around here somewhere. She's just gotten more cautious since you caught her at the airport," Amanda said with a quick grin.

Fann echoed her grin at the memory of the watcher's face when she'd been escorted out of the airport by what looked like a Goth nun and a priest.

Amanda was still grinning slightly when the barkeep showed them to a private room. It was occupied by an old man with long white hair and twinkling eyes behind half-moon glasses. In the dim candle light he seemed to be dressed in the same odd style of clothes she'd seen the other pub patrons wearing.

He waved them over to seats next to his, near a small fireplace on the other side of the room, before ordering drinks from the hovering barkeep.

"I hadn't realized any descendants of the Sidhe were still walking the earth," the old man commented when Amanda introduced her.

"How can you tell?" Fann asked, surprised, before Amanda could say anything. "I didn't know I had any Sidhe blood myself until recently. Not that anyone can tell me what it means."

He just smiled at her for a moment before answering. "To some of us it is very clear where your family comes from." He seemed to think for another moment before continuing. "And what it means? That is up to you. There is some power in knowing where your ancestors come from. There are those who would envy your connections to the mystical past of these islands."

"Albus..." Amanda said to him, the warning clear in her tone. "We're not here to get involved in any of your schemes. You promised me a job appropriate to Fann's current skills."

It was obvious to Fann that there was some history between Amanda and the old man, but even with the observation skills she'd learned from Amanda she was unable to determine what kind of relationship they'd had in the past. Leaning back, she settled in to watch the show.

"Yes. Well..." He winked at Fann. "It will certainly provide that."

They were interrupted by a barmaid bearing drinks for all of them. Fann imagined she could smell the alcohol coming from the other glasses as she moved forward to accept her own mug.

"Okay, what do you need us for?" Amanda asked, frowning at him. "And none of your life lesson tasks please," she added.

The direction the conversation was taking was confusing Fann but knowing Amanda she remained quiet, once more sitting back as she sipped her oddly flavored beverage.

"I need you to retrieve an object for me," he told her. "It fell into the wrong hands a few years ago and I suddenly find a need for it."

"Why don't you just get it yourself? And why wait until now to get it?" Amanda asked him. "I would think it would be easy for one of your people to take it without anyone noticing."

"Well, I don't see any need to attract attention to it by the wrong parties." He pursed his lips in thought as if trying to decide what to tell them. "It's been perfectly safe where it is until now. Using my normal methods to retrieve it would raise questions best left unasked. We need something a bit more subtle."

"So what is it?" Amanda asked.

He handed a small photograph across to her. "It's in the Maritime Museum." he told them.

"I've seen it." Amanda admitted, handing the photo to Fann. "What makes it so special? Other than its age?"

"Ah... I can't tell you that," He demurred.

"Understood," Amanda said, shrugging as if it weren't important. "So, when do you need it?" she asked. Fann handed the photo back after a quick look.

"As soon as you can arrange it," he said.

"We'll need at least two weeks," Amanda told him, Fann nodding in agreement. It was on the list of London museum plans Amanda had insisted she memorize before their trip but they hadn't managed to visit it in person yet to confirm the accuracy of the plans.

"Good. Good." He smiled delightedly at them. "Let me know when you have it."

They sat for another few minutes discussing mutual acquaintances before he left them. Following several minutes later, Amanda and Fann left the pub and its inhabitants behind. Heading in the direction of their hotel, they window shopped, leaving a discussion of their plans until they were alone.

Once they were back in their room, Fann turned to Amanda "It isn't an ordinary sword is it?"

"No. We'll definitely need to find out more about it before we pick it up," she acknowledged, dropping onto the couch in their suite. "There's bound to be more to it than he claimed." She looked at her watch. "I need to make a few calls. Why don't you take a cab to the museum and take a look around?"

"Like this?" She gestured to her clothes. Intent on being taken seriously, she'd dressed as maturely as possible that morning before they'd begun their day. One of the first things she'd learned from Amanda was how clothes could be effectively used to change her appearance. It wasn't as much fun as some of the other things she'd learned in the last year but she'd been surprised at how much she actually enjoyed dressing up when it was for a job.

"No," Amanda said, examining her thoughtfully. "Something younger looking would be better. You might actually want to dress your age this time." She grinned at the face Fann gave her.

"Okay," She grumbled. "But if I get in trouble for hitting any teenage boys you get to bail me out!"

"Not a problem," Amanda said, smirking. "Just be glad you can still look young when you need to. It's a good way to stay unnoticed."

"Well, I haven't felt my age in years. And I prefer it that way," she said. Amanda just shook her head and pointed imperiously towards her bedroom. Straight-faced, Fann curtseyed in an exaggerated fashion before impudently sticking out her tongue. Twirling around she headed to her room intent on changing into something more school girlish, but not too much. Attracting the wrong kind of attention wasn't part of the plan. She ignored the laughter coming from the couch as she changed.

* * *

Casually strolling around the museum, Fann could see the wisdom of Amanda's advice to dress her age. There were at least three different school groups wandering around when she arrived at the museum in Greenwich. No one seemed to pay her any attention as long as she kept moving and didn't stand in one place for too long.

She found the sword in a large case with several others, all labeled according to size and age. From a distance it seemed to be a simple weapon. It was very plain. Nothing special, she'd seen similar weapons elsewhere. Stepping closer in the crowded room, she thought she could see it shimmer in the harsh museum light. Looking casually around to make sure no one was watching her, she ran her hand along the length of the sword, just above the case. As she did so her hand seemed to tingle slightly. It definitely wasn't ordinary.

Fann spent the next hour wandering around the rest of the museum comparing the memorized map in her head with what she was seeing. The museum's physical security systems she could see seemed to match the information Amanda had been able to get on them. A closer look would have to wait for Amanda's more experienced eye.

It wasn't until she'd stopped in the museum cafe to grab a quick drink that she became aware of her shadow. Somewhere during her exploration of the museum she'd picked up a tail without noticing them. Someone hidden in the crowd seemed to be following her, just at the very edge of her enhanced senses. It was as if they had a very good idea of her abilities. Fann wondered who it could be. Not even the immortals she'd spent the better part of the last nine months with knew how accurate her senses were.

Ducking into an unoccupied exhibit room she waited as patiently as possible, just out of sight, to see who would pass. Over the next ten minutes she could hear a large number of people walking by but none of them entered the room. Just as she was about to leave her hiding place a tall, older man wandered into the room. There was something very familiar about him. She watched him meander from display to display for several minutes before she realized where she'd seen him from before.

The man strongly resembled one of the men she'd occasionally seen in the nightmares that had eventually driven her from her childhood home. He was older than she remembered, his appearance slightly more worn. But he'd definitely been with one of the multitude of young girls she'd dreamed of. Dreamed of dying during those painful months. In her mind, his face was connected to the blonde one who'd appeared the most during those months. The other nightmares had been horrifying but those had been the worst, the realest.

She couldn't be sure that he'd been the person trailing her earlier. His appearance could have just been a coincidence, but Fann followed him anyway, being very careful to keep him at a safe distance. As stealthily and silently as possible she followed him out of the building, out onto the museum grounds. She kept her distance until he stopped and sat on a park bench overlooking the Observatory.

Giving herself enough room to get away quickly if necessary, Fann nonchalantly perched at the other end of the bench, arranging her skirt protectively over her knees. She wasn't sure if she wanted to know how he'd found her but she gave him several minutes to say something before impatiently breaking the silence herself.

"I'm sure it must be illegal, even here, for old men to stalk young girls," She told him without looking in his direction. She could sense him starting in surprise, though she didn't know what had caused it. "And if it isn't it should be," she added, turning to look at him at that point. "Why were you following me?" She asked bluntly.

Not denying it, he removed his glasses and carefully cleaned them before answering her question. "You reminded me of someone," he told her quietly, searching her face, obviously looking for something. "You have a similar look, though I wasn't expecting an American."

"Well, I'm not her and won't be taking her place," Fann said, indirectly answering his unasked question. "I have a different destiny," she said. "I can't follow hers. Those men in their old building don't need me to fight her monsters. I have my own path to follow," she mumbled. "Or so I've been told."

"Destiny can be a harsh taskmaster. It can come for you when you least expect it," He said, giving her a sympathetic look before asking curiously, "What are your plans?"

"I still have a lot to learn. About myself. About my future," she admitted. "I'm not ready to follow my destiny yet. I don't know when I will be but I've found my own teachers. I don't need your help or your Council's."

He nodded. "I understand. She is also independent," he said reluctantly. "If you need any advice or help while you learn you can find her in Sunnydale, California." Taking out a pen, he wrote something on a small card and handed it to her before getting to his feet.

Taking the card without looking at it, she crammed it into a pocket, staring at him, puzzled. She hadn't expected an offer of help. Or the information he'd given her. The few times she'd envisioned meeting one of these men she'd dreamed of, the ones who watched the Chosen, she'd expected something more confrontational or forceful resulting in her running away. "Isn't she dead?"

"No..." He said, shaking his head sadly before turning and walking away. She heard him say, almost to himself, "Sometimes destiny doesn't allow you to rest in peace. It finds a way to drag you back into the world."

She watched him until he disappeared into the distant crowds, unable to process what he'd said, before heading back to the museum herself.

* * *

She stomped noisily into their suite at the hotel. The trip back from the museum hadn't allowed her the additional time she'd needed to really process what the old man had told her. Instead, she'd simply gotten angry.

"What's wrong?" Amanda asked, coming out of her bedroom.

"I ran into someone at the museum," Fann told her, sitting down and angrily throwing off her shoes and socks. After rubbing her feet for a minute, she stood up and started pacing. "I can't believe it!"

"What can't you believe?" Amanda asked, watching her stomp back and forth across the room in her bare feet.

"She's not dead!" Fann said, spitting out her answer as she came to a stop in the middle of the room. Standing there, her hands on her hips, she wasn't sure if she should be screaming at the injustice or crying.

"Who isn't dead?" Amanda asked her, confused.

"The Chosen One who died to make me like this," Fann said. "I had nightmares about her for months," she added, finally sitting down. "She wasn't the only one but I dreamed about her the most. I saw her and other girls dying horrible deaths in my dreams. Fighting horrible creatures."

She started to shake and sat down again, wrapping her arms around her knees and trying to calm herself down. "He said her destiny wouldn't let her stay dead. Wouldn't let her be at peace." She looked at Amanda, trying to hold back tears. "Why? Who would do that to someone?" she asked, hoping for some kind of wisdom from someone who'd seen death so many times before.

Sitting down next to her, Amanda wrapped her arms around her in a comforting hug. "I don't know," she said quietly.

* * *

**Notes:**

* Yes, the bit with Giles needs some work. How does he know she's a slayer and why doesn't he try to convince her to go to Sunnydale or to the Council? It's all too vague. Someday I might fix it.

* The job for Albus Dumbledore will be covered in a future story.

* This occurs before the First started picking off potential slayers in BtVS Season 7.


	11. Epilogue

* * *

**Disclaimer: ** See earlier chapters.  
**Note[1]:** I'd forgotten I hadn't posted this here yet. It was actually finished a month ago.  
**Note[2]:** Tweaked versions (grammar, etc.) of the previous 10 chapters have been posted but the story hasn't really changed.

* * *

**_Epilogue_**

They were in Toronto picking up a package for Mac, discussing plans for a trip across the border later in the week over an early dinner, when she felt it. She'd just taken a bite of the decadent dessert Amanda had insisted on ordering. Suddenly, without any warning, she felt faint. As her surroundings faded away she realized she was looking down on a large room packed with vague figures. The air echoed with the voices of dozens of girls and young women. Someone was asking them something she couldn't quite make out from her position. As she tried to push forward into the room to hear better, Fann was brought back to herself by Amanda shaking her arm.

"Fann? Fann?"

She could hear the concern in Amanda's voice and tried to respond. "What? Amanda?" She mumbled, sitting up in her chair. "What just happened?"

"I don't know," Amanda said, giving her a worried glance. "It was like you were in a trance."

"Something strange is happening," Fann whispered in a strained voice. "I think something big is going to happen. Soon." She shivered. Amanda gazed at her for a long moment, taking in her paler than normal face before casually looking around the dining room, trying to spot any trouble. Fann's ability to detect danger almost before it happened had saved them a number of time in the past year and neither of them took her premonitions lightly.

"Where?" Amanda asked quietly.

"Not here. Somewhere far away," Fann said, keeping her voice low. She felt oddly euphoric and exhausted. "Do you mind if I make it an early night?" She asked, pushing herself out of her chair. "I need to go lay down."

"Okay," Amanda said, nodding before gesturing their waiter over. "I'll meet up with you later. There are some things I wanted to check out while we're in town."

"Amanda... didn't you promise Mac you would stay out of trouble?" Fann asked, grinning faintly at the look on Amanda's face.

"What he doesn't know can't hurt him," Amanda said, smirking at her. Handing a small stack of bills to their waiter, she stood up. "Besides, it was you he was concerned about. I can take care of myself."

"Okay." Fann shook her head, wincing as her head started to ache with the motion. "As long as I don't have to rescue you," she said, heading towards the entrance. Sometimes she felt like the responsible one in their relationship.

"You? Rescue me?" Amanda winked at her as she followed. "What was that in Boston last week?"

"That was different," Fann said, frowning for a moment before grinning at the memory. "He never knew what hit him."

"Nope. You obviously need someone to look after you," Amanda said, waving in the direction of their hotel. "I'll just walk back with you."

They casually strolled down the street, weaving through the light pedestrian traffic. Stopping in front of their hotel, Amanda gave her a quick hug before continuing down the street. Fann gingerly shook her head, watching Amanda until she disappeared around a corner before going up to her room.

* * *

Fann was just sitting down to breakfast in the cafe across the street from their hotel when she heard several other patrons talking about Sunnydale. The destruction of an entire town in California had made the news, even in Canada. She sat there thinking, eyes blank, occasionally sipping from her cup as she waited for Amanda to join her. Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a number of newspapers being dropped onto the table in front of her.

Without acknowledging Amanda's presence, she grabbed a newspaper from the pile. Intently reading the front page for clues, she ignored Amanda's impatient grumble for a minute as she absorbed the details. It wasn't much. Nothing to explain what had happened. Or exactly when. She threw it down in frustration before looking up at Amanda, now sitting across from her.

The feelings that she'd finally managed to suppress months ago came flooding back. She needed to go there, even if there was nothing she could do. The invitation to Sunnydale that had seemed to be in the distant future was suddenly important. Even if she wasn't ready or willing to be a part of that other world, something so bad it could destroy an entire town couldn't be ignored.

"Amanda..." she looked at her much older companion. They worked surprising well together. They'd developed a close rapport while Amanda was training her, as she learned everything about her new profession that could be taught. And as she taught her how to defend herself, even though Amanda was very protective of her protg and did her best to not involve Fann in Immortal games.

In exchange she tried to keep Amanda grounded and tried to keep her more extravagant schemes in check. While she had a long life ahead of her, thanks to her Sidhe heritage, Fann didn't have the Immortal ability to survive death. Amanda wasn't going to be too happy with her plans. "I need to go. Alone."

"Fann!" Amanda started to protest, her voice almost a whisper. "You can't"

"I need to. I should have gone last year when I found out about Sunnydale."

"You weren't ready," Amanda reminded her. "And Cassandra said your destiny is elsewhere. You aren't needed for that fight."

"I remember." She grimaced. No matter how it had shaken apart her world almost two years ago, her connection to the Chosen One line was an accident. Finding out she wasn't completely human at the same time had been another shock that had taken her months to really accept. With her maternal background it should never have happened. She should never have become one of the Chosen.

It was an unwanted debt she suspected she would have to repay eventually. And because of it her future was no longer her own. Someday someone would come to collect the debt. "But I'm still connected to it. I still have dreams and desires and skills that come from that. I need to find out what happened."

"We can catch a flight to LA this afternoon," Amanda acknowledged resignedly, not attempting to fight Fann's plans.

"You're not coming," Fann told her flatly.

"Says who?" Amanda pouted.

"I do." Fann refused to budge on the issue. "It's even less your fight than mine."

"So?" Amanda answered. "You're still my apprentice. Of course it's my business if you want to do something that'll get you killed.

"So you're not going," Fann told her firmly. "You need to let me deal with this."

"You're too young!" Amanda protested. "You don't have the experience to deal with something like this."

"And you do?" She looked at Amanda, shaking her head at the petulant Immortal, knowing she'd won the argument before it even started. Amanda wasn't MacLeod. No matter how she felt about her apprentice she wouldn't interfere. "Since when does your 'hobby' give you the experience to deal with some place like Sunnydale?"

"Well..." Amanda started. "I..."

"I'll be fine. No one will notice me. I'll take a quick look. If nothing goes wrong I should be back in a week or two." She got up from the table. "You can wait for me here in Toronto, or we can meet somewhere else."

"Let's meet somewhere else," Amanda told her with a quick smirk.

"Oh?" She shook her head at her. "So you didn't just go for a long walk last night? Should we be packing right now?"

"No. We're okay." She smiled like the cat that had gotten the canary. "This afternoon is soon enough."

Fann groaned. Keeping Amanda out of trouble was a full time occupation. But she owed her so much she couldn't just leave her. No one else would have taken in a teenager like she had and given her a purpose. Even if Amanda insisted that having an apprentice her age was a distinct advantage, Fann knew that wasn't the only reason Amanda had originally rescued her from her misguided cross-country journey a year and half ago.

"Why don't you eat something," she told Amanda. "I need to go pack and change my flight. I also need to pick up some things in Seacover, so I'll drop off that box for Mac so you don't have to carry it around."

"Okay. Don't be too long. We still have to do a few things before this afternoon." With that, Amanda dismissed her and reached for the basket of rolls as she waved a waitress over to their table.

* * *

The trip to Seacover seemed to take forever. Fann attempted to sleep the entire way, only waking up long enough to change planes, but found it impossible. The Sunnydale mystery was on the minds of everyone and she couldn't escape speculation about the cause. And when she did manage to doze off, she dreamed about the first time she'd ever heard about Sunnydale.

A subdued Joe picked her up at the airport. He seemed to be deep in thought, saying few words before dropping her off at MacLeod's dojo. She hadn't given him an explanation for why she was back so soon and without Amanda. She promised him one when she got back in a week or two. He just gave her the same look he gave his Immortal friends when they promised similar things. "Just make sure you get back here in one piece. Mac and Amanda won't be happy if I'm helping you get yourself killed," he told her.

"Amanda already knows where I'm going and it's better if Mac doesn't find out until I get back," she told him with a challenging stare before she slipped out of his car. She waited for him to drive off before reaching above the door to retrieve the key.

She wasn't taking much down to Sunnydale. Just things she could carry on her bike for the long trip. The katana Mac had insisted on giving her when she'd proven she could handle it was too awkward for a trip like this but hopefully its companion wakizashi would work for anything she might possibly run into. It was also a lot easier to hide for a non-Immortal like herself.

Grabbing a change of clothes, a pair of throwing knives, and several stakes from her locker at the dojo she quickly packed her small travel bag. Before taking her helmet and riding clothes out she stashed her suitcase in Mac's office and placed the box from Toronto on his desk with a note from Amanda.

Feeling like she was getting into old familiar armor, Fann changed into the leather clothes she'd kept from her brief nomadic life, before meeting Amanda had changed everything. It had been a long time since she spent any amount of time on her bike, mainly using it to get around town in good weather when she wasn't traveling. She would have to travel in several stages if she wanted to be in good shape when she got there.

Taking one last look around, Fann pulled on her helmet and backed her bike out of the small shed behind the dojo. In the stark morning light she gave it the once-over, making sure there was nothing wrong with it before attaching her bag and stowing her wakizashi in its special sheath. Satisfied, she climbed on and kicked the bike to life. Double checking to make sure she had enough gas to get several hundred miles down the road, Fann pulled out into the street and headed south.

* * *

When she wasn't thinking about her destination, Fann thought about the job she'd been working on when she'd learned that Sunnydale was the home of the current Chosen One. It'd been her final training job for Amanda, though Fann hadn't learned that until afterward. It had everything a full scale job did - the planning, the preparation, the complications. It even had the rare attempt by another party to take away the prize before they could deliver it. And she'd seen her first real magic during that job.

Opening the display case without setting off the alarms hadn't been the hard part of that job. No, the hard part, or so they initially thought, would be arranging for the museum guards to be occupied while she retrieved the sword and Amanda repeated her actions with the decoy in a wing on the other side of the museum.

It'd been a clever idea worthy of her reputation, or so Amanda claimed, to take more than one sword from the museum. It would confuse the issue, or so Amanda had hoped, though Fan later learned that to Amanda the clever part lay in turning a simple retrieval into a bit of sleight of hand.

To deal with the guards, they'd snuck in the night before and placed several knockout bombs in strategic locations that they could set off remotely. It should have given them thirty minutes to get to the swords and get back out if nothing went wrong. But their luck hadn't been with them that night.

It had taken her less than a minute to open the case and swap their target with the look-a-like Amanda had found in an antique shop earlier that week. It'd easily slid into the carrying case their contact had procured for them, cutting off the slight tingling she'd felt when she'd picked it up. She'd reassembled the case and was on her way to her rendezvous with Amanda when everything fell apart.

There'd been no signs but someone must have somehow been watching the sword, they decided later. The moment Fann stepped out from the museum's shadow, there were more than a dozen thumping noises, like the sound you would get if you slapped your palm over a half full glass of water.

Months later, she could still remember the feeling of wrongness that had followed the sound, deep in the pit of her stomach. Even now she didn't know how to describe it. It had been like a wrongness in the fabric of the universe. Thinking about it now brought her back to the present, where she belonged. She was almost in California now and she couldn't let her mind wander so much. Even with her fast reflexes and enhanced senses, inattention would be her death if she wasn't careful.

Watching the exit signs as she crossed the border at dusk, Fann breathed a sigh of relief when she spotted the exit for her hotel. A couple hours of sleep and hopefully she'd be ready to face whatever she would find in Sunnydale.

* * *

All of the roads leading to Sunnydale were full of gawkers trying to see what had happened to the little known town. The closer the road she'd picked got the slower traffic moved, until it eventually came to a halt at a barricade manned by black clad soldiers directing traffic away from the crater, back towards civilization.

She eventually discovered that all of the roads into Sunnydale were blocked by similar men. And all of the hotels and motels were full of reporters or refugees from the town. She was almost to LA before finding a place to stay for the night, some national chain motel that was able to squeeze her in for what she thought was an exorbitant fee. Still tired from her long trip, Fann put up only a token protest.

Parking her bike in front of her room, the large yellow school bus with 'Sunnydale' plastered on its sides barely registered. Ignoring the voice whispering in the back of her head, trying to alternately warn her of danger and safety, Fann stumbled into her room. Stripping, she collapsed on the lumpy bed for the night, the phrase 'you can find her in Sunnydale' repeatedly running through her mind as sleep claimed her.

* * *

Fann knew immediately that it was a dream of that night at the museum. She'd had them before, though it'd been a while. And it was the first time she'd sensed another presence in one of her dreams, though she couldn't see them.

She watched from a distance as a dozen black cloaked figures wearing white masks appeared out of thin air, surrounding Amanda and herself.

The figures silently waved sticks at them. Green or red light would shoot out of the tip of one and fly towards them. She could see herself getting tired as she dodged one bolt of light after another, unable to get close enough to stop them.

She felt the despair again, as one of those bolts hit Amanda, dropping her to the ground in a heap. Not matter what Amanda claimed, she'd never quite believed that she couldn't be killed. And the remembered rage as she watched herself grab the decoy sword and charge the closest figure.

She still felt nauseous when she thought about the damage she'd done. She'd managed to skewer a couple of them before help arrived. Nothing fatal but there'd been blood everywhere.

Fann watched herself fall to her knees and grab Amanda, refusing to let her go for the eternity it took her to revive.

The dream repeated several times before Fann fell into a deep sleep where they couldn't follow, though the angle seemed to change each time as if her invisible observer was moving and pressing rewind over and over again.

When she woke the next morning the bus was gone.

* * *

It took her a day and a half of poking around to find a place where she could see the Sunnydale crater, a cemetery along its edges. But by then the crater was already more than half full with the water that was drowning its secrets. Surprisingly, the cemetery was empty except for its permanent residents. It was almost as if no one knew it was there. As if everyone thought it was at the bottom of the crater with the rest of the town.

She hadn't been in a cemetery since her Gran's funeral. From her dreams, she knew most cemeteries weren't safe places at night but in the later morning sun this one seemed peaceful.

Sitting on a tombstone, Fann stared across the crater, a light breeze making small waves in the water. She wasn't sure if she was imagining the faint prickling along her arms and the back of her neck, a sign that she had learned meant that some kind of magic had been used nearby fairly recently. Standing, she walked down a path to the edge of the crater, staring into its depths for an answer. She wasn't sure what it meant but the faint pull towards Sunnydale that she'd felt for a while, though much weaker, was now pulling her east. Whatever had drawn her to the west coast years ago was now somewhere else.

Sighing, she headed back to her previous perch. Before she could sit down, a cold clammy feeling enveloped her. Something she couldn't see was now occupying the space she'd been sitting in earlier. Stepping back, Fann took a deep breath and tried to clear her mind as Cassandra had attempted to teach her.

Two figures gradually took shape in front of her. The afternoon sun shone through them, giving them a faint glowing look. One of them was a blonde woman who smiled faintly at her from her perch on the tombstone. The other was a smaller, almost familiar looking young woman whose eyes seemed to bore into Fann's heart, her light brown skin glowing with an unearthly light.

Fann stared at the ghosts, waiting for them to say something. At least she thought they were ghosts.

"What do you want?" she finally asked after a long silence. The blonde merely pointed at the name on the tombstone, shaking her head in what Fann thought was amusement. "Sorry!" Fann blurted out.

The other ghost started talking, though it took Fann several seconds to realize she was being addressed.

"Go home!" the ghost breathed, with just a faint hint at an accent.

"What?" Fann stared at her in surprise.

"Dere is nutthing here for you."

"Why?"

"Dey will come to you," the ghost continued, crossing her arms and staring at Fann.

"It's not time yet." the blonde ghost said, her soft voice mixing with the sound of the breeze blowing through the nearby trees.

"Who are you?" Fann asked desperately as they started to fade away.

"She was one before you," the blonde whispered before disappearing completely. The other ghost stared at her for several moments longer, gradually fading away Cheshire Cat-like, the last thing to disappear were her eyes.

"That was helpful," Fann muttered to herself. "In a cryptic sort of way."

She wasn't sure how these things worked but just in case the two ghosts were related, Fann memorized the name on the tombstone. She could look it up when she got back to Seacover, before she caught up with Amanda in London in two weeks. Taking one last look across the crater, Fann shook her head before walking back towards the entrance where she'd parked her bike.

* * *

**End Notes:**

* Yes, I know I have Fann acting/being treated as MUCH older than she is throughout this story. But think about it... she's a Slayer (mostly) and she ran away from home over a year before this. She's more mature than her age would indicate.  
* This should be the last time we spend time with Fann for a while. She'll show up in later parts of my stories (posted at _Twisting the Hellmouth_) "T_he Other Girl_" and she has a bigger part in Part II of _Red Raider_. If I ever write that.  
* There is plenty of room in this story to write about other adventures Fann has with Amanda and other immortals. Someday I plan to do that - as separate stories.


End file.
